


K'oyacyi

by SennyriNamis23



Series: Aliit ori'shya tal'din [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 23:50:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10752333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SennyriNamis23/pseuds/SennyriNamis23
Summary: SPOILERS FOR BOUNTY HUNTER STORY LINEFollowing the progression of the relationship between the Champion of the Great Hunt, Nlusta'ceasa'lirnimu, and Torian Cadera through the story line of the Bounty Hunter. Staceasa is still the brittle Chiss, burying her fears of losing the people she cares about rather than confronting them. Despite her best efforts, Torian slowly breaks down her walls and teaches her that it's okay to love again.





	1. Taris

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for depictions of injuries and blood mention.

“I thought you’d be harder to get the drop on.”

Staceasa bristled as he pressed the blaster against her shoulder, mentally running through her options: she could shoot him, even aiming behind her she was a better shot than most; she could have Mako shoot him, since she was standing right there; she could calmly and evenly explain what she was doing and what she wanted; or…

She licked her lips and grinned, “I was just so eager to see you again after Dromund Kaas.”

Mako’s mouth dropped nearly to the floor as the words slid effortlessly off Staceasa’s tongue.

Torian pulled back and blinked in surprise, “Y-you what?”

Staceasa pounced, taking advantage of the weakened grip he had on the blaster, flipping him over her shoulder and taking the blaster from his hand as she did so. She planted a boot firmly on his chest and aimed the gun at his forehead.

She shook her head, “Men…what in the hell are you doing out here?”

“Ow…” he muttered, “I deserved that.”

Mako crossed her arms, “Yeah, yeah you did.”

He wasn’t making any moves to overtake her, and judging by his reaction, he knew very well that she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him. So Staceasa held out a hand, the other still holding the blaster aimed for his torso just in case, and she pulled the Mandalorian to his feet.

“Thanks. You’re not here for me, who then?”

Staceasa frowned, unsure of how he would react to hearing she was hunting down his father, “You’re not going to like the answer to that.”

“The traitor…” he replied quietly, bitterly, “I’m looking for him, too. But not for a reunion; I have to reclaim my clan’s honor.”

Her heart went out to him; to have his own father betray him and the codes of honor he strove so hard to uphold was clearly eating at him. And she may have been newly adopted into the Mandalorian ranks, but she knew how important that code was to them; it was part of why she admired them so much. 

“We’ll restore your honor, Torian,” she promised, returning his blaster, “You’ve got my word.”

His face brightened in the dim bunker, “Thanks. I promise you I can find him; I already know where to start. Someone’s erected dew collectors, beast traps, around an old transport station; they have to be the traitor’s. I’ve only found one entrance into the station, and it’s thick with rakghouls, so it’s risky, but I’ve got a way to throw off the rakghouls. But I’ll need help gathering materials.”

“Just tell me what you need.”

He listed everything he needed and with every one, Staceasa saw Mako’s face twist further and further into a mess of disgusted wrinkles; rakghoul blood, waste, remains, among other things. She couldn’t decide whether she was more amused by Mako’s reactions or disgusted by the thought of carrying those things through the Taris swamps to this transport station. 

“I’ll give you the rendezvous coordinates,” he said, taking out his datapad.

“We’ll see you there,” Staceasa replied with a nod before turning and entering the swamps again.

As Staceasa and Mako waded through the muddy waters between them and the transport station, the Chiss let her companion chatter aloud. She appreciated Mako’s company, as well as the fact that she usually didn’t expect a response.

“If he wasn’t so cute I would have shot him,” she muttered, “Not for ambushing us, though. For sending us back out into the swamps to collect rakghoul bodies. Yuck! If he’s pranking us, I  _ will  _ shoot him.”

Staceasa smiled as she took aim and fired at a rakghoul who had fallen behind in a pack of them, “Well, if he is pranking us, he’s going to have to smell these things, too. It might be better to just rub the stuff all over his armor.” She knelt down next to the dead rakghoul and collected some waste and blood.

Mako thought about it for a second as Staceasa handed her the vials, “That could work.”

She shook her head and continued to trudge through the swamp, making a roundabout trail to the transport station. 

\---

“Could smell you coming,” he said with a grin as Staceasa dropped the rotting rakghoul corpse on the ground before him.

“It’s all yours,” she replied.

Mako handed Torian the vials, immediately wiping her hands off on her pants as he began to work with the rakghoul muck they’d brought him.

“Smear it on thick,” he said after a minute or so, handing each of them a significant amount of the rakghoul goop.

Clearly unimpressed, Mako and Staceasa just shared a dubious glance.

Torian didn’t wait for them, covering his armor in the stuff as he explained, “This stuff will throw a rakghoul off our trail, but in their den, keep your blaster ready.”

The girls hesitantly spread the rakghoul goop on their own armor, looking skeptically at Torian as they did it.

“Wow, that’s a smell. If I pass out, please don’t leave me behind,” Mako commented, pinching her nose with her fingers.

“I hope this works, Torian,” Staceasa noted, trying - and failing - to get the rakghoul goop off her gloves.

He nodded, “It’ll work. We should move quickly, though.” Torian took the lead, zagging his way through the tunnels, leading the three of them around the bigger packs of rakghouls as Mako and Staceasa had their blasters ready in case trouble showed up. Fortunately, he wasn’t wrong about the rakghoul goop, and the creatures kept their distance until they entered a barricaded bunker. The three entered silently, breathing a collective sigh of relief when it didn’t look like there were any more rakghouls around.

“It’s been awhile,” Torian noted absentmindedly before shuddering and holding a hand to his ear, “Ack! You hear that?”

Staceasa looked around, but there wasn’t anything but the echo of their own voices and the dull sound of rakghoul groans from outside.

“Nothing?” he asked, shaking his head.

She held her blasters and kept her eyes peeled for the source of whatever Torian had found. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she muttered.

But Torian heard something else, turned to the girls and cried, “Trap!”

There was a rumbling in the walls further in the bunker, as if they were releasing an airlock, and the sound of a dozen rakghouls floated up to their position.

“I really don’t like the sound of that,” Mako said, keeping close to Staceasa as Torian ran into the thick of them with his polesaber.

Staceasa aimed for the rakghouls headed for the Mandalorian, trying to keep them from clawing at him. But he was quickly surrounded by them and she didn’t want to risk a misfire hitting him instead.

“Torian!” she called, “Tactical retreat, get up here!”

He hit one of the rakghouls in the head as he hurdled over them and sprinted back up to their position. The rakghouls followed in a pack, but they were slower than him, giving him enough space that Staceasa could pull out a grenade, arm it, and hurl it into the thick of them. Torian leaped back to the girls just as the grenade went off, leaving the walls splattered with rakghoul carcasses.

“You okay?” Staceasa asked. Torian nodded as he breathed heavily.

“Why does everything want to eat us?” Mako sighed.

They readied for another wave of them, but after a few minutes of silence, the three of them decided the coast was probably clear enough to continue.

When they entered the back chamber, there was nothing but some empty lockers and a holoterminal. Torian hung back by the doorway, looking a little uneasy as Mako and Staceasa stepped up to the holoterminal. As soon as they walked up to it, the holoterminal powered up and the image of an older Mandalorian rendered and stared at them.

“So, is Artus finally sending children to do his dirty work?” Jicoln Cadera said as way of greeting, “Run home now, and tell Mandalore if he wants my head, he should come and take it himself.”

Staceasa had faced bigger assholes than him before and she wasn’t going to back down because he called her a child, “Are you gonna face me like a warrior? Or chase me all over Taris, hiding behind half-assed insults?”

He let out a bellowing laugh and pointed to her, “Think real hard, girl, before you go issuing challenges you might regret. I will tell you what I’ve told the others: you’ve survived, you’ve earned the right to the Geroya be Haran. If you lose, however, I will kill you. I’ll be waiting at these coordinates; then we’ll see who hunts whom.”

Just like that Jicoln’s image dissipated.

Mako turned to Torian, “Was he expecting us?”

He pushed himself from the wall and stepped forward, “Personally, no. He’s toying with us. But the Geroya be Haran gives us an opening. It’s a Mandalorian death game. There are four parts:  _ ali’jehate _ , personal honors.  _ Yei’me’suum _ , the homeworld. The  _ Starebiise _ , who defends a legacy, and the  _ Naast _ , who destroys it. He will place honors, prized possessions, around a battlefield. You will try to take them. If you take all of them, then you must take his home.”

“It just screams ‘ _ trap’ _ to me,” Staceasa noted suspiciously, “Am I just supposed to wander the swamps for Jicoln’s things while he hunts me?”

Torian shook his head, “I’ll scout for Jicoln’s honors while you go to face him. While you run the game, I’ll find his home. Call me when you’ve made your challenge.”

She nodded, and just like that, Torian turned and left them.

“Do you think disappearing suddenly is a family trait?” Mako remarked, hands on her hips.

\---

Staceasa and Mako stepped up onto a platform near the Cathar base, keeping alert, but seeing nothing to suggest Jicoln was actually there for them. She pulled out her holocom and Torian’s image appeared.

“I’m at the coordinates,” she said, “No sign of Jicoln, just some sort of marker.”

Even through the holocom she could see him tense as he replied, “Not good.”

As he said it, Staceasa felt something rip through her left side and she went down as another half dozen sniper shots flew past her head. Mako ducked and ran for the cover of a cargo container and Staceasa joined her, swearing in every language she knew as she slid to the ground.

“Whoa, are you alright!?” Mako asked when she looked over to the Chiss, who nodded and pulled out her holocom again.

Torian’s image appeared again, still tense and concerned, “You okay? What happened?”

Before she could even answer, Jicoln’s image replaced his son’s and he was wearing the wry smile of a confident man, “Challenge accepted.”

She disconnected his call without a word and got Torian back on, “Torian, I’m easy pickings out here, where the hell am I going?”

He replied quickly, “I’m transmitting coordinates; should be all of the traitor’s honors. I’ll contact you when I find his bolt hole. Torian out.”

Staceasa put her head back against the container, holding her side painfully. Mako shot her a worried glance, but didn’t say anything and let her gather herself.

After a minute or so, Staceasa had pushed enough of the pain aside and stood, “Let’s get this fucker.”

\---

Another shot ripped through Staceasa’s shoulder as she picked up the first medal, and she cried out in pain. Mako had her pistol out, looking for the attacker, but Staceasa knew she wouldn’t find Jicoln. 

“He’s hiding out somewhere, fucking with us,” she said through clenched teeth.

Mako knelt beside her and injected a painkiller into her thigh, “How do you know that?”

“He could have killed me with either of those shots,” Staceasa explained, “But he didn’t. He’s playing with us before he kills us.”

“Just what I wanted before I died,” Mako joked.

Staceasa looked at her, and wondered if Mako could see the murder in her deep red eyes, “Oh, we’re not dying. Not today. Not to this guy.”

Finding the other three possessions went about as well as Staceasa expected, each time feeling a slightly different place on her left side ripped through by a sniper blast. At least Torian seemed to be making progress finding the traitor’s hideout. She offered - prayed even - to meet him there, but Torian insisted that she had to finish the game before she went to Jicoln’s hideout in the wreckage of the Endar Spire. Torian was going to set traps for Jicoln while Staceasa finished.

After the fourth bullet hit her shoulder, Staceasa seemed to be persisting on will power and spite alone, practically spitting venom when she called Torian again.

“Torian, that trap ready?”

He shook his head, clearly in the middle of something, “No, and the traitor’s on his way back.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Don’t let him get away. I’m heading to you now.”

“I’ll ambush him at his camp. Transmitting coordinates. Hurry there.”

\---

“Mako - just like on Alderaan, keep a hand on me. This place is going to be trapped through the roof by Jicoln and Torian. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Staceasa said with a grimace, pressing her own hand to her injured side.

Mako nodded and placed a hand tentatively in the square of the Chiss’ back, “I’ll be careful.”

Staceasa shuddered and she felt a shot of pain fly up her side as she did it; but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that her brain was screaming at her to get the hand off; it didn’t matter that her whole left side was screeching in pain; she needed to keep Mako safe and end this fucking death game.

Sure enough, at the end of the first hallway there was a small terminal on the wall, and if it hadn’t been so dusty, the lasers on the floor would have been nearly invisible. She’d seen enough of these devices on Nar Shaddaa that she set her blaster on the floor and typed an override code into the terminal; the lasers powered down with a soft vibration and it was safe to go. Staceasa picked up her blaster again and moved forward as silently and quickly as she could, with Mako right behind her. They weaved their way through the Endar Spire, taking out half a dozen battle droids in the process, powering down another couple sets of lasers, and shooting at the cameras in the hallways that could target them.

When they entered the final room, Staceasa could see dozens of tiny detonators scattered on the floor, nearly undetectable to people who weren’t looking for them. 

“Mines,” she muttered.

“I don’t see them,” Mako replied, moving beside Staceasa and trying to get a better look inside the room.

Staceasa put her hand out, “Don’t. You stay here, Mako.”

“Are you sure?” she asked hesitantly, looking worriedly at Staceasa’s injury.

The Chiss nodded, “Positive. Don’t touch anything. Try not to touch the floor if you don’t have to.”

“I’ll do my best, boss.”

Staceasa picked her way around the mines, carving a path between the door and the back of the room as she disarmed them. At first she tried to hold her blaster in her hand, too, but after putting it down and picking it up again every time she had to disarm a mine, she decided it would do her just as well to leave it holstered.

As she turned the final corner to the back of the safehouse, she could hear the quiet groans of…  _ someone _ . 

“Oh, kriff, Torian,” she muttered as she saw the young Mandalorian on the ground, his side bleeding onto the floor from where he’d been shot or tripped a mine or Force knows what in this place.

“Torian, where’s Jicoln?” Staceasa asked, kneeling beside him and pressing her own bloodied hands against his side.

He was in serious pain and losing a lot of blood fast, but he managed a husky whisper, “Got cocky. He’s tricky. Electronet put him down, but he used it to cook off his munition cache. He’s running, don’t let the trail go cold.”

“You’re hurt; I’m not going to run after Jicoln and let you die here,” she replied, throwing one of her hands back to her own injury as it sent a searing pain through her.

“I’ll be fine… just get him!” Torian said, a bit more forcefully, but he recoiled from the effort, “He’s hurt, bleeding, running. Deep tracks, bloody mud, straight lines… even you could follow.” 

He wrapped one of his hands around hers, clinging to her even as he told her to go. It wasn’t a pretty sight given just how injured both of them were at that point, but Staceasa held tightly onto him. Everything about this should have been uncomfortable, it should have sent her into a panic, she should have pulled out of his grasp as quickly as she could. But it wasn’t and she didn’t. 

“Hey, you don’t get to be Champion of the Great Hunt by being a shitty tracker,” she retorted, mostly for his sake, “We’re finishing this together, Torian. It’s not up for discussion.”

“Funny, this wasn’t how I was expecting to go,” he said quietly, losing his grasp on consciousness.

She squeezed his hand, “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not going to die here, then.”

A laugh barely escaped his lips.

“Hey, come on,” she urged, “I’ve seen cannocks take worse and still get up.”

Torian grimaced, “Cannocks are too stupid to know when they’re injured.”

She could feel him slipping, and knowing she couldn’t do much about it, she let him lay back and pass out.

“Mako!” Staceasa yelled, wincing when her side sent another wave of pain through her.

“Yeah, boss?” came the muffled reply from the doorway.

“Mako, Torian’s hurt. I need you to grab the medpac that’s near you and bring it back here. I’m pretty sure I saw a canister of medical supplies by the door on my way in.”

She heard shuffling from the other side of the room for a moment before Mako’s cheery voice wafted through the ship, “I’ve got it!”

“Good,” Staceasa called, “Take the path I made as best you can. I disarmed all the mines in the vicinity, so you should be safe so long as you’re careful.”

She closed her eyes as she waited for Mako to make her way to them. Torian’s hand was still in hers and she squeezed it gently.

“Hang in there, kid,” she whispered almost silently.

Mako inhaled sharply as she turned the corner and saw them, but she quickly kneeled beside Staceasa and worked on smearing kolto wherever it looked like he was bleeding. It took their collective remaining strength to shuck his armor so they could bandage it properly, and Staceasa leaned back against the wall beside them when they finished.

“Boss?” Mako asked as she finished wrapping Torian’s wound.

“What’s up, Mako?” Staceasa replied through a grimace as she shut her eyes.

She could feel Mako’s presence beside her, hesitant and worried.

“What is it, Mako?” she repeated.

“There’s some extra kolto in here… I could put it on you,” she said, pausing before adding, “if you want.”

“I’ll do it. Thanks, Mako.” Staceasa peeled herself from the wall and took off most of her armor before holding out her hand. 

Mako smeared the cool gel on her hand and backed up as Staceasa applied it to her injuries. She could feel the gel seep into her flesh as it began to work, and even though it was diminishing her pain significantly, it was an uncomfortable sensation to feel it wriggling through her insides.

A couple hours passed before Torian woke up again, and Staceasa had gathered enough strength to do a walkthrough of the Endar Spire to make sure there weren’t any more traps waiting for them on the way out. When she was satisfied with her inspection, she went back to Torian and Mako, sitting against the wall and closing her eyes. What she would have given for a nap on the Mantis.

“Hey, look who’s awake!” Mako greeted.

“I told you, I was never asleep,” Staceasa teased, opening her eyes to find Torian picking himself up off the floor.

“No, not you,” Mako replied, sticking out her tongue.

Torian didn’t make it much past a knee before he stopped, breathing heavily, “You should have left me. You’ve given the traitor too much time.”

Staceasa pushed herself up off the wall and offered him her hand, “You’re welcome, Torian.”

He let her help him up, although both of them looked worse for the wear when he replied, “At least I get another crack at him. The traitor sacrificed his stockpile so he could escape, he’ll be scavenging now, most likely he’ll steal from nearby outposts.”

Staceasa nodded, handing the Mandalorian his armor.

He threw on the armor through a grimace, “We should update our tactical maps at an Imperial outpost, then search for signs of the traitor at any outposts nearby.”

Mako looked like she wanted to object; like she didn’t want to babysit two very injured, very determined Mandalorians while they ran around looking to fight Jicoln Cadera. Her brows were furrowed and she had her arms crossed across her slight frame. But she didn’t say anything. She just looked at Staceasa with disappointment and frustration in her eyes. 

Staceasa hated it when Mako looked at her like that, and might have decided against following Jicoln’s trail if she wasn’t so determined to get him back for shooting her. But she wasn’t known for making good decisions when she was angry.

And she was mad as hell.

\---

After traipsing through the Tarisian swamps for what felt like forever, the three of them finally came to a more or less permanent-looking camp, hidden among some deep brush and the wreckage of a collapsed building. 

“You gave me a good run, my friend,” the familiar drawl of Jicoln permeated the area as the older Mandalorian appeared in front of them, bleeding and hurting as much as they were, “Might have done me in if you hadn’t left the finale to a novice. You and Artus have something in common: you’re content to let the young do your dying for you.”

Staceasa stared him down, “There’s nowhere left to run, Jicoln. This ends here.”

Jicoln looked around, taking in his surroundings, “This is as good a place as any for my last stand. Let’s finish burying the past. This game’s gone on long enough.”

Staceasa and Mako pulled out their blasters, and Torian gripped his pole saber. It felt like time had stopped as Jicoln took the first shot and it whizzed by Staceasa’s head; but almost immediately her instincts kicked in and she rolled forward, aiming for the Mandalorian’s chest. The blast bounced off his armor, and Torian had to duck just to avoid getting hit by its return. Jicoln might have laughed if Mako hadn’t hit him in the thigh, and he went down with a thud to a knee for a moment. Torian took a swing, but Jicoln grabbed the saber with his bare hand and held it, aiming for the younger Mandalorian with the blaster in his free hand.

Staceasa armed a grenade and hurled it at them; the blast was mostly pure energy, and sent the two flying backwards away from each other. Torian landed somewhere in the grass, but Jicoln had dug his foot in the ground and slowly come to a halt in front of the Chiss. He was breathing heavily, but was still strong enough to aim the blaster for Staceasa’s head. She used his hesitation and shot his hand, sending the blaster skittering across the dirt. Mako took a few more nonlethal shots at him, and in a few short moments, Jicoln Cadera was kneeling before Staceasa, his head bowed and his expression defeated.

“Just... do it…” he groaned. Staceasa put her blaster back in her holster and went to open her mouth to reply, but Torian had reappeared and aimed his own pistol at his father’s head.

“ _ Liser gar su jorhaa'ir haar joha, dar'manda? Ibi'tuur gar dar'buir balyc _ .” 

Staceasa had no idea what he was saying - something about Jicoln being a traitor and speaking Mando’a? - but she felt memories of Nar Shaddaa flooding into her mind, remembering the Mandalorians in the streets, talking to each other in their own language. She’d always loved the sound of it, even if she never did find anyone to teach it to her. There was something so easy-going, so camaradic about it. Even though Torian was spitting decades’ worth of betrayal at his father, Staceasa couldn’t help but love listening to him. It was only when Jicoln’s hardened, gruff voice replied that Staceasa shook herself from her thoughts.

“ _ Me’ven? Ner… ner ad? Oyayc? _ ” Jicoln turned to Staceasa and bowed his head, breathing heavily, “Hunter, I have one last request. Give me a moment to speak with… with my son.”

She looked over to the son in question, “You got an opinion on the matter, Torian?”

His stare was cold, angry, and bitter as he held out a blaster and aimed it for his estranged father, “We won’t be remembered as traitors.”

Even though she’d figured it would end this way, Staceasa still flinched as the blast went through the older Mandalorian’s skull and he slumped over on the ground.

Torian’s gaze immediately softened when he looked to Staceasa and Mako, “It’s over… Thanks for this.”

Staceasa nodded, but the twinge in her side was growing into a vaguely stabbing feeling, so she didn’t reply to him aloud.

It seemed his injury was taking a toll on him, as well, as he bent over and held his side even as he thanked her, “I won’t forget this. It’s been an honor.”

“Alright, you two,” Mako interjected, grabbing them both by the arm, “Let’s maybe not keep hurting ourselves and get home, yeah?”

\---

Staceasa showered for much longer than she was accustomed to, trying to get all of the rakghoul smell and her - and Torian’s - blood out of her skin. Gault had managed to patch her up with kolto and bacta patches while Mako had cleaned up, but her side and shoulder still stung whenever the water hit them or she turned the right way. She wondered how Torian was holding up at the Mandalorian camp.

She rubbed a towel over her deep blue skin and tousled her short black hair, wincing when she rubbed her injuries. But she somehow managed to both wrap her injuries more thoroughly and throw on some clothing before gathering with Mako and Gault in front of the holoterminal.

Bloodworthy’s image appeared before them with a huge grin on his face, “So, the Champion returns victorious once again. I hear Jicoln Cadera is dead, and the pot is yours,  _ ner vod _ .”

“He better stay that way,” Staceasa replied with a smile.

Bloodworthy laughed, “Oh, I’m sure he will. I’ve sent a group to collect the body that’ll meet you at the orbital station. They should be there shortly.”

Mako made for the cockpit, setting coordinates for the orbital station above Taris, and Staceasa ended the holocall. The short flight went by quickly, and as Mako and Staceasa exited the Mantis, they were met by a group of half a dozen Mandalorians.

Jogo the Irritable was first among them, “ _ Burc’ya _ , wasting no time gaining new honors, I see. We’re here to collect the traitor.”

It took a lot of effort for Staceasa to reply without any snark in her voice, “He’s all yours, just head through there and find the Devaronian.”

He nodded and took most of the other Mandalorians with him, “We’ll make this quick.”

A particular blond-haired, blue-eyed Mandalorian stayed behind.

“I need to ask you a favor, champion,” Torian asked hesitantly.

Staceasa raised her eyebrows, “Shoot.”

“I want to come with you.”

She grinned, “You haven’t had enough of me yet?”

“Guess not,” he chuckled, “I mean to join you, join your hunts, earn respect for my clan.”

“How could you say no to a face like that?” Mako interjected. Staceasa shook her head, but still smiled.

“Give me this honor,” Torian asked politely.

“The honor is all mine, Torian,” she said with a bow, “Welcome to the family, Torian.”

There was the hiss of the door opening and the rest of the Mandalorians came out with the body of Jicoln. 

Jogo stopped and nodded once, “We’re done. Coming, Torian?”

“Nope.”

Jogo rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue, “Tch. You can finally show your face and now you’re running off. Try to make something of yourself,  _ arue’tal _ .”

Torian flinched at the name, but turned to Staceasa, “I’m ready when you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter more than the others really follows the BH story really closely. But I promise I veer from it in the next chapters!


	2. Quesh

“There are some ground rules you should know,” Mako was chattering as she gave Torian the tour of the Mantis, “Rule number one: don’t touch the boss. You  _ will _ lose a hand. One time on Nar Shaddaa, we were at a bar and this guy offered to buy her a drink - all creepy-like, forked tongue and everything - and he put his hand on her shoulder. Big mistake. In less than a second, he was missing an arm!”

Staceasa held in a snort as Mako’s voice wafted up to the lofted second floor where she sat cross-legged on one of the couches. Gault was flicking lazily through his datapad on the couch opposite her, probably doing some sort of research on how to work some poor soul out of all his money. 

“Pretty soon we’re going to have an actual crew aboard this ship,” he commented absently.

“Rule number two: if you dent the Mantis, you’re paying for the repairs,” Mako’s voice continued from the medbay.

“Getting too crowded for you, Gault?” Staceasa replied.

His eyes flickered to hers for a second before returning to the datapad, “Oh no, no. I just hope the Mandalorian doesn't shoot me. If I'm gonna go out that way, I want you to be the one who does the honors.”

Staceasa laughed, “That can be arranged, you know.”

Mako was dragging Torian up the stairs by the wrist, practically bouncing with every step.

“You already know Staceasa,” she said, “This charming guy is Gault. I wouldn't let him too close to your credits if I were you.”

“Hey,” Gault protested, “If I’m going to take your credits, it's going to be the old fashioned way. I won't stoop to pickpocketing when I can swindle you out of money like a gentleman.”

Torian just looked at the Devaronian skeptically.

Staceasa shook her head and changed the subject, “The Mantis doesn't look like much, but it's home.”

Torian sat beside her on the couch, “In my experience, home isn't so much a place as it is a feeling.”

Gault exhaled in a laugh, “In  _ my _ experience, home is where the alcohol is free and the folks don't want to kill you.”

The others laughed at that, but soon the ship was quiet again. Mako was puttering around the holonet looking for any bounties that might be worth investigating, Gault continued to flick through his datapad, Torian was getting settled in and unpacking, and Staceasa sat up in the cockpit. 

They were still docked at the Taris orbital station, which seemed as good a place as any to rest until they had a new destination in mind. She flexed her hands and placed them on the dashboard, feeling the familiar keys under her fingers as she ran some diagnostics. It never hurt to run those in their downtime. She looked out the window as she waited for the program to finish, looking out at the stars. Things were going pretty well if she was honest; she had a ship of her own, a good crew, the freedom to fly wherever she wanted, and a nearly constant view of the stars. She imagined her much younger self being in awe of the times she was having now. She thought of Stanellir, too, wondering what he would think of her escapades.

“I take it you’re the pilot, then,” Torian said from behind her as he came in.

She spun her chair around as he leaned casually against the console.

“More or less,” she explained with a shrug, “Mako can handle it when she needs to, but I like how peaceful it is up here.”

“There’s not a lot of peace in a Mandalorian’s life,” he commented, looking out the window.

She nodded, “There’s not a lot of peace in the whole galaxy. That’s why I enjoy it when we get it.”

Torian smiled and sat in the chair beside hers, getting the layout of the dashboard.

Mako piped up from the other room, “Boss! I’ve got a new contract for us!”

“See what I mean?” she chuckled as she stood.

\---

Staceasa held the polesaber in her hands awkwardly, still trying to get a comfortable grip on it. Blasters really were much easier; they were smaller, fit in your hands, holstered comfortably on your belt. Not like this long double-ended monstrosity that was nearly as long as she was tall. Well, maybe not nearly, but it was long enough to be uncomfortable.

Torian smirked when he noticed her fidgeting with the weapon, “It’s not going to swing back, you know.”

She glared at him, “You don’t know that.”

He frowned and shook his head, “If you don’t want to learn to use it, why did you ask?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to learn to use it,” Staceasa replied, shifting her hands a little farther apart on the grip. Fucking stars, how the fuck did this thing work?

As if he could hear her thoughts, Torian moved to stand opposite her with his own polesaber in his hands - looking much more comfortable with it than Staceasa did. She tried to match his grip, but after a few seconds of frustration, she sighed and looked up to him.

“Start with the stance,” he instructed, not moving any closer to her but moving his feet apart and bending his knees, “keep your center of gravity wide and low.”

Alright, her own body she could work with. She mirrored his stance, feeling a delightfully gentle stretch in her thighs as she did so.

Without warning, Torian sprung towards her, swinging his polesaber as he did so. With a yelp, she put up her own polesaber to deflect his, catching his attack only a couple inches lower than she stood before. His weapon was locked in hers, barely a foot from her face; his body was pressing down on his weapon and by extension, her, leaving her practically pinned. Just as the panic started to rise in her throat, he jumped back and grinned.

“Look at where your hands are,” he said, pointing to her polesaber.

Sure enough, her hands were at least relatively comfortable on the grip of the weapon, spread a little farther than shoulder-width apart over the middle of it. But the surprise and the realization that he’d actually helped didn’t mitigate the anger bubbling in her.

“You could have warned me,” she snarled back.

Torian just shook his head, “You would have had too much time to think.”

She slid her hands down to the base of the polesaber like it was a club and wound up to swing, but Torian just started laughing. She was so startled by the sound that she stopped mid-motion to gape at him.

“You look ridiculous,” he explained, setting one of the ends of his polesaber on the ground and leaning on it.

Staceasa’s face flattened and she blinked slowly, “Maybe I would look a little less ridiculous if you just kriffin  _ taught _ me how to use the damn thing instead of throwing your weight around just to prove a point.”

His whole expression changed in an instant, as if he’d had some terrible revelation about his teaching methods. His grin fell into a frown and his eyes were wide and stricken with fear. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Torian stuttered, swallowing hard to recover his composure, “Maybe we should try again.”

Force help her, he was so sincere he really looked like he might cry if she refused. So she nodded and held her polesaber out in front of her, taking it in her hands like she had before. He hesitated before taking a step toward her and looking her stance and grip over. 

“Stand a little lower,” he instructed quietly, and she obliged, even as she tensed when he took another step towards her.

When he reached to adjust her grip on her polesaber, she yelped and pulled back so fast and so violently that she nearly knocked herself over, needing a second to even get her feet underneath her again. Torian recoiled too, so surprised by her reaction that he stumbled backwards a few steps. Staceasa might have laughed at the whole thing if her heart wasn’t still in her throat, beating frantically. She wished she could have apologized, explained that it wasn’t Torian’s fault she was so uncomfortable, but she couldn’t find her voice among the heartbeats.

Fortunately, Torian seemed to find his easily enough and he broke the uncomfortable silence, “Are you okay, Staceasa?”

Even hearing him say her name was overwhelming her, but she managed a shallow nod.

He forced half a grin, “Maybe we should try again later. Neither of us seem to be doing well with this at the moment.”

Staceasa nodded again, forcing hoarse words out of her mouth, “That would be good.”

Rather than deal with going near him again, she took the polesaber with her up the stairs and into her room, closing the door behind her.

\---

“I’d really advise you to take your hand off,” she said coolly, betraying none of the irritation and anxiety that was coursing through her. Something wasn’t right, something beyond the fact that this Adascorp representative felt the need to hold her wrist when he talked to her.

“Thendys, could you bring in some refreshments for our guests?” he spoke into the holocom, disregarding her statement entirely.

She could feel Torian tensing beside her, knowing he could sense something was awry, too. Thendys rang some vague bell in Staceasa’s head, like that was a name she should know, but she couldn’t put her finger on it until a Mirialan entered the room with a dozen SIS guards.

“Nlusta’ceasa’lirnimu, you are under arrest for the murder of Jedi Master Kellian Jarro,” the Adascorp representative said, tightening his grip on her hand.

“Oh this is just spectacular,” Staceasa replied with a guffaw.

Torian pulled out his polesaber, but Staceasa shot him a warning glance and he backed off.

“Come with us quietly, or you will be killed,” the Mirialan Jedi warned, a challenge in her tone. 

The image of a Jedi Master appeared on the holoterminal on the table, standing stoically, his eyes calm and focused.

“This need not resort to violence, Thendys,” he reprimanded gently, “Perhaps this Bounty Hunter can be reasoned with.” 

She nodded, “Of course, Master. She did spare me on the Aurora.”

“I’m now thinking that may have been a mistake,” Staceasa muttered caustically.

The Adascorp-Representative-Turned-SIS-Agent tightened his grip on her wrist and threatened, “You’re surrounded, Hunter. There’s no way you’d survive this fight. So just come along.”

Staceasa flexed her arm, trying to wriggle out of his hand, “I’ll take that bet.”

“I’m warning you, Chiss.”

“And  _ I told you _ to let go of me,” she retorted, pulling out her blaster and shooting the Agent between the eyes before he could even react. He slumped to the floor, freeing Staceasa’s hand so she could get her other blaster out. The other Republic agents and soldiers froze for a second, but Torian pounced into action, taking out the agent closest to him with a swipe of his polesaber. There were eight Pubs in the room, including the Jedi apprentice, and two were already down for the count. 

Staceasa and Torian fought together like they’d been working together for much longer than the single month he’d been on board with her. They’d trained together plenty in that time, but their instincts in battle complimented each other like they were supposed to fight beside each other. So whenever Torian would roll out of the way, Staceasa would aim her blaster for the enemy behind him, and whenever she was surrounded by melee-wielding enemies, he would appear in the thick of them, drawing their attention away long enough for her to get her bearings again.

They made short work of the SIS Agents and the Jedi with them, and when Staceasa looked over to him, Torian had just taken down the last of them.

The Jedi Master on the holoterminal didn’t sound impressed, “You two may be smug now, but you will regret the day you made yourself a target of the Republic and the Jedi Order.”

Staceasa blinked and turned off the holoterminal without replying.

“You killed the Mandalorian Killer?” Torian asked after a few seconds of silence.

Staceasa nodded, “Jarro was my final target in the Great Hunt.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but just nodded, looking at his polesaber with an increased amount of interest.

“You did a good thing killing him,” he said finally, “Too many good Mandalorians died by his hands.”

There’s not a good way to reply to that, so Staceasa just nodded, trying to get a read on his face. But she couldn’t tell if he was upset or just flustered.

“Come on,” she urged, “Let’s get out of here before more Pubs show up.”

He met her crimson eyes with his own vibrant blue ones, “I’ll follow your lead.”

\---

The whole crew sat together at one of the bars on some space port in the middle of nowhere, sitting in one of the back corners together at a table. They were munching on whatever fried sticks had been put in front of them and nursing some of the nicer alcohols the bartender kept. It was nice to be able to go out and relax with the three of them, to laugh and tell jokes and let down her guard a bit. 

Staceasa had been a little jumpy - well, a little more jumpy than normal - since Quesh, and Mako had done a thorough holonet search on the Jedi Master from the holo, and they just didn’t have enough information on him to get anywhere. With some prodding by Gault, she’d agreed that they needed a day off, so they flew as far as they could in a day from Quesh to wherever they were now. Some system Staceasa hadn’t heard of before, but wasn’t tied to the Empire or the Republic. It didn’t really matter, at any rate.

“Gault, come with me and get some refills,” Mako said cheerily, sliding out of the booth.

He looked at her dubiously, “I highly doubt you need a chaperone for that.”

She frowned, “Oh, come on, you trust me to bring four drinks over by myself without spilling anything?”

The thought of lost alcohol sent Gault lurching to his feet, “Lead the way, kid, I’m right behind you.”

Mako winked at Staceasa as she dragged her companion from the table.

_ Why the fuck did she just wink? _

Staceasa shook her head and finished the last of her whiskey in a one swift motion. Torian took a sip of his own drink and smiled at her.

“You know, you remind me of a friend of mine,” he said, “Corridan Ordo. Great  _ alor’a _ . I served with him and his clan on Eriadu. I told you about that, right?”

Staceasa shook her head, “I don’t think you did.”

“We were sent in to secure a weapons factory - half the planet is factories, like Coruscant, but dirtier,” Torian explained, “It was pretty quiet except for snipers and mines; real trouble was waiting in the factory. Resistance fighters, geared with stealth generators, hiding among the workers.”

“How’d you flush them out?”

He smiled as he took another sip, “Stealth fields don’t fool thermal detonators. Corridan got most of the workers out, got us under cover. It could’ve been worse. He’s good at thinking on his feet. Sorta like you.”

Staceasa replied with a laugh, running her hand through her hair, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Mako and Gault returned with more drinks and food and slid back into the booth; Staceasa immediately grabbed for the drink closest to her and downed it.

\---

“Structurally, Mando’a is just like Basic,” Torian explained patiently, “words are constructed a bit differently, but once you get the hang of that, it’ll be easy for you to follow.”

They were sitting together on one of the couches in the Mantis, not quite touching, but they were pretty close. Torian sat on the middle seat with his back against the back of the couch; Staceasa sat perpendicular to him against the arm of the couch, one foot under her and the other dangling off the side. Gault looked them up and down as he passed them on his way back to the medbay, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

Staceasa stared at the datapad Torian had given her, flipping through pages of Mando’a vocabulary, “It looks like there are a lot of compounded words? Especially with the nouns?”

He nodded, “You sound like you could probably teach yourself.”

She shrugged, “I wouldn’t get the drawl right. Have you ever heard someone butcher Mando’a? It’s so sad.”

Torian laughed, “I’ve really only known folks born into the ranks speak Mando’a. But I imagine it would be painful.”

“Well, if you ever meet a Ysaine Pierce,” she said with a smile, “steer clear. Her Mando’a hurts  _ me _ , and I don’t even speak it yet.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Ysaine Pierce? Like the Ysaine Pierce who married Shae Vizla? How do you know  _ her _ ?”

“She’s the one who told me about the Great Hunt; it’s sort of a long story,” Staceasa replied with a laugh, though she was desperately trying to find an exit from the way this conversation was going.

“We’re not exactly pressed for time,” Torian replied, leaning back against the couch, trying to look relaxed. But his eyes gave him away. He was fiercely curious, but she couldn’t let herself trust him. After spending the better part of a decade building walls in front of herself, she wasn’t about to let them all down because some Mandalorian made puppy-eyes at her.

“I’m sorry, you must be a level seven friend to unlock my tragic backstory,” she teased, bringing her feet up in front of her and subtly putting up a physical barrier between them.

He frowned, “Level seven? What level am I at?”

She grinned and thought for a moment, putting her hand to her chin playfully, “You’re a solid level three friend.”

“Level three?” he chuckled, “I’m doing better than I thought! I’ll have to keep doing what I’m doing.”

She was particularly grateful at that moment that her blue skin made it difficult for him to see the color that flushed to her cheeks.

“Hey, boss!” Mako called as she ran out of the cockpit, “We’re getting a call from Bloodworthy. Another name from the Blacklist, probably.”

Staceasa had never been so relieved at an interruption.


	3. Hoth (Round 1)

Hoth was cold. Cold, desolate, and unforgiving. 

The freezing air hit Staceasa’s face as she and Torian exited the shuttle to the planet, and she closed her eyes; it stung her cheeks, but it was oddly comfortable. Torian, on the other hand, wrapped the scarf she’d made him don tighter around his face. Chiss had adapted to the icy terrain and climate on Csilla; humans generally had not. She’d also insisted that they wear heavy coats over lighter armor, much to Torian’s chagrin. 

“I feel exposed,” he had complained when they were still on the Mantis.

“Better exposed and warm than armored and frozen to death,” she had retorted.

He seemed grateful for the coat and scarf now, though, as he wrapped them closer around him. The two of them were supposed to meet a representative of the Chiss Ascendancy on Dorn Base to gather background on their next bounty: a Trandoshan named Reneget Vause. Staceasa was, in no uncertain terms,  _ dreading _ making contact with her home planet. She hadn’t stepped foot on Csilla in nearly two decades, hadn’t contacted anyone from there in a dozen years, hadn’t even met another Chiss in five or six years. And she would have been perfectly happy to avoid the Chiss altogether for the rest of forever.

“You must be the Bounty Hunter,” the Chiss at the door said as a way of greeting, his blue face stoic and blank, a touch of a frown on the edges of his mouth.

Staceasa nodded brusquely, “Heard you’ve got a Trandoshan you need taken care of.”

The Chiss hesitated before ushering the two Mandalorians inside their base.

“The White Maw have been persistent in hunting us, but Reneget Vause especially so. Clearly,” he paused, looking Staceasa up and down, “we’re at wits end.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Staceasa saw Torian’s face scrunch in confusion. Her gut twisted, knowing full well what the Chiss was implying and what that meant he knew about her.

The Chiss who had initially contacted them was waiting on the holoterminal, “Hunter, trust me when I say we have no pleasure in bringing you here. We’d prefer to clean this mess up ourselves, but I fear Reneget Vause has left us with no choice. The Ascendancy needs someone of your skills, and I’m afraid we cannot be choosy about character or Csillan status at this point.”

Torian bristled, but Staceasa put her hand out in front of him to stop him from doing or saying anything.

“Then let’s get started and I’ll get out of your hair as quickly as possible,” she replied coolly, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her tone. They didn't like her, she didn't need to pretend to like them.

The Chiss guard led them around the corner to a row of cages, one of them occupied by a Jawa.

“This is one of Vause’s compatriots,” he said with disdain.

“Blizz is not a compatriot! Blizz was stolen from Blizz’s friends by ugly lizard man!” the little creature chirped.

Staceasa shooed the guard out of the room and knelt in front of the Jawa, “Your name is Blizz? I'm Staceasa, and my human friend is Torian.”

Torian smiled and gave a half-hearted wave.

The Jawa nodded excitedly, “Yes yes yes. You are big hunter boss. You help Blizz get out of here?”

She smiled, “Not so fast, Blizz. I’ll help you, but I need some help, too.”

“Whatever Big Hunter Boss needs, Blizz can help!”

He immediately launched into a fast explanation of Reneget Vause’s operations; how he hunted, who he hunted, how he recruited new members, how he enslaved people to work for him. All of it was immensely helpful and it wasn't long before Staceasa and Torian had formulated a plan to find the Trandoshan in the Wampa caves.

They had to pass through a Chiss camp to get there, and no matter how hard Staceasa tried or manipulated the maps, there was no way around it. She sighed and put the map away in a huff, resigning herself to more awkward glances and vaguely disgusted looks from dozens of her countrymen. 

Torian put a hand on her shoulder gently, “You okay?”

A shiver went down her spine but she didn't pull away from him. She swallowed her anxiety, but she shook her head.

“Anything I can do?”

She looked over to him and forced a smile, “No. Let’s just get this over with. Thank you, though, Torian.”

He nodded and took his hand back, fidgeting with his scarf.

Staceasa looked back to the Jawa, “Behave yourself, Blizz. We’ll be back soon.”

“Blizz can have your things if you die, though, yes?” he replied.

Torian snorted and Staceasa shook her head, waving behind her as they left.

\---

As expected, there was an uncomfortable hush that rippled through the Chiss camp as soon as they entered. Csilla evidently had not forgotten that the Nlusta Clan had been exiled a dozen years ago. The guards’ eyes followed the two intruders closely, hyper-vigilant and suspicious. Whispers fluttered through the compound, uncomfortable accusations hung heavily in the air. Staceasa felt her gut clench as she put her head down and pushed through the compound without a word.

She remembered her father all those years ago in the Csillan Embassy, dejected and angry. She remembered how he held his head high, stalking out of the cold building as if he hadn’t just been told to leave it. She wished she could have his pride, his determination.

A Lieutenant stepped in front of their path and frowned as he looked on them.

“This camp is Csillan Territory,” he stated.

“That’s a cool story,” Staceasa retorted caustically, “You should tell it at parties.”

His red eyes seemed to pulse as he struggled to control his anger, “As you know, per Mandate Five-Eight-Two-Three, all Csillan laws are applicable in foreign Csillan territory.”

Staceasa scowled, “I’ll be sure not to spit on your boots on my way by.”

The other Chiss stuck a finger to her chest, “Your family is not allowed here, Exile. You need to leave.”

She wrapped her hand around his in a vice-like grip, letting the venom in her words drip heavy in her reply, loud enough for the rest of the compound to hear her, “I am aware of the Nlusta Clan’s status, Lieutenant. I am also aware of Mandate Five-Eight-Two-Three. Let me make this clear for you: I am  _ not _ here as a member of the Nlusta Clan, I am here as a _ Mandalorian  _ of the Lok Clan, Lieutenant, and I am here at the  _ request _ of the Chiss Ascendancy. So if you have any problems with my presence, I suggest you take it up with  _ them _ .”

The Lieutenant visibly paled, pulling his hand away from Staceasa. She fought him just enough so that he recoiled a few steps when she finally let go. Torian stifled a chuckle, and Staceasa smirked as the Lieutenant struggled to regain his balance.

“Am I free to go, Lieutenant?” she asked loudly, making a show of looking around the rest of the compound at the other Chiss who had taken notice of the altercation.

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, head bowed.

“Good,” she said defiantly, her head held high as she looked down on the Lieutenant, “I’ll leave you to your work then.”

She pushed him gently out of her path, Torian right on her heels. She made eye contact with as many other Chiss as would look at her as they made their way out of the compound, daring them to challenge her. None of them did. Most of them didn’t even meet her gaze, but those who did only managed it for half a second before returning to their work, pretending to be intensely interested in it.

As soon as Staceasa and Torian wound their way back out onto the Hoth snow, she let out the breath she was holding and stopped them to collect herself. Torian fidgeted with his scarf, but was watching her closely.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation for that,” she sighed, putting a hand to her abdomen in an attempt to uncoil the knots.

He shrugged, “If you’re comfortable with it.” His voice was muffled through the scarf, but there was no missing the concern in his voice.

She smiled and started walking again, and Torian matched her steps beside her. They went a good fifty paces before she organized her thoughts enough to begin, but Torian didn’t rush her.

Staceasa took a deep breath before starting, “My family is the Nlusta Clan, just like that Lieutenant said. My ancestors were scholars, mostly, a few were architects or doctors-”

Torian snorted through the scarf.

Staceasa chuckled and looked at her feet, “I’m sure they’d all disapprove of my line of work.”

“I’m sure they’d be proud of you,” Torian replied gently, “I’m sorry for interrupting. Please, continue.”

She nodded her gratitude, “My parents, brother, and I moved to Nar Shaddaa when I was seven. At some point between us leaving Csilla and my brother’s death five years later, someone in my extended family offended a member of the Ruling Families - I never did learn what actually happened - and the whole clan was exiled.”

Torian looked at her with a crease in his brows, “The  _ whole _ clan was exiled?”

Staceasa nodded, “The idea is to root out disloyalty entirely. Chiss won’t kill their own if they don’t have to, but exiling them essentially removes their influence.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

She shrugged, “It doesn’t. But that’s the way of things on Csilla.” She took another deep breath, willing the lump in her throat down, “When my parents went back to get answers, they were killed on sight. And I’m not allowed anywhere in Csillan Territory. Even on Hoth, apparently.”

Torian stopped, hesitating before he pulled her back gently by the hand, “I’m sorry, Staceasa.”

She swallowed and wiped her face with her free hand before turning to him.

“It was a long time ago,” she muttered, bowing her head so she didn’t have to look in his eyes. His hand was warm around hers, even through the layers of gloves, and it was surprisingly comforting. Staceasa couldn't even remember the last time she touched someone and was  _ comforted _ by it. But there was Torian, standing in front of her and holding her hand to make her feel better about her parents’ deaths from nearly a decade ago. And even more surprising, she  _ did _ feel better. Maybe only marginally, but it was enough.

Torian pulled her into his chest and hugged her, shaking her back to reality with a yelp. He was shivering against her and she looked at him, noticing that he had all but buried his face in her shoulder.

“Torian,” she said with a laugh, “you can go back to the ship if you want. I don't want to be the one who has to explain to Corridan how you got hypothermia.”

He shook his head even as he pulled her tighter, “I’m good. Just give me a minute.”

“I have a better idea,” she replied, pushing him just far enough so she could dig into her belt and hand him a couple hot packs, “Take these.”

“Don't you need them?”

She shook her head and pulled out half a dozen more, “I’m pretty well stocked.”

Even through the scarf, Staceasa could tell he was grinning. “You're prepared for anything.”

“Just about.”

\---

“Hey, look who’s back,” Gault remarked when they returned to the Mantis, barely looking up from the drink in his hand.

“I’m going to shower,” Torian mumbled on his way to the refresher, slowly stripping off the outer layers of his clothing as he went.

Blizz clutched the bottom of Staceasa’s coat and looked up at her, “This is Big Boss’ ship?”

Staceasa nodded, “This is the Mantis, Blizz. The Devaronian is Gault, and the little slicer is Mako. Make yourself at home, buddy.”

Mako leaped down the stairs from the cockpit three at a time and landed in front of the Chiss and Jawa.

“We have a new crew member?” she asked energetically, kneeling to introduce herself, “I’m Mako! Let me show you around while Staceasa gets the Mantis ready to go!”

Blizz happily removed his hand from Staceasa’s coat and attached himself to Mako instead, who was a pro at the ship tour by now. 

Steaceasa shucked her coat and armor, hanging them neatly in the cargo bay beside her regular armor. She sent a half-hearted wave to Gault as she climbed the stairs and sat in the cockpit. It was nice to be home. She breathed deeply, stretching and rolling her muscles, willing them to relax after spending so much time on Hoth being tense. 

Well, the trip was about as successful as she had anticipated; they tracked down and captured Reneget Vause, and the Chiss Ascendancy was abundantly clear about her status as an exile. At least she’d get paid for her troubles. 

She sighed and rubbed her face with her hands. 

The water was still running from Torian’s shower, and she wondered how long he was planning on being in there. Poor kid was freezing by the time they finally came back; she could forgive him for using all the hot water.

The arm of the Devaronian appeared beside her, sliding a glass in front of her.

“Thought you could use a drink,” Gault offered, “Got you the good stuff.”

He had this funny way of knowing when she was upset. And while his solution was  _ always  _ alcohol, she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 

She took a long, slow sip, “Thank you.”

“Something bothering you, kid?” he asked, leaning against the console.

Staceasa shook her head, “Nothing worth talking about.”

Gault nodded and pushed himself off the console, “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

“I appreciate that, Gault.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied as he left the cockpit.

\---

“ _ Ner vod _ !” Bloodworthy greeted when she answered his call, the words coming before his image, “I see you’ve been busy! You’ve taken down the two longest-standing members of the Blacklist!”

Jewl’a Nightbringer materialized beside him, “I hate to admit it, but you’re showing all of us up.”

Staceasa laughed, “Well, somebody needed to.”

“We have decided this calls for a celebration,” Bloodworthy continued, “Come meet us on Nar Shaddaa. I’ve already sent you coordinates.”

Mako nodded from the console, keying the coordinates into the navicomputer.

“It’ll take us a few days to get there,” Staceasa replied.

“That just means we’ll have that long to get prepared for you,” Jewl’a said with a wink.

“Save some of the good stuff for us,” Staceasa joked, grinning and crossing her arms over her chest.

Bloodworthy put up one of his hands, “Will do,  _ Champion _ . We’ll see you soon.”

Staceasa nodded to the other three Grand Champions and then to Mako, who ended the holocall. Gault looked more excited than she had ever seen him before, the grin on his face reaching from ear to ear. Nothing like the promise of good alcohol to get him perked up. Mako was practically bouncing in her seat; Blizz waddled his way to the slicer and started jabbering to her. Torian alone was reserved in his reaction, but when Staceasa gave him a quizzical look, he smiled. Staceasa shook her head playfully and made her way to the cockpit.

\---

They sat on the couch again like they always did, Torian in the middle seat and Staceasa perpendicular to him on an end. 

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she read aloud, “ _ Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. _ ”

Torian grinned, his pride nearly gushing from him, “ _ Kandosii _ ! You’re sounding like a real  _ Mando'ad _ , Ceasa.”

She flipped through her datapad, “I’m still learning the vocabulary.”

“It’ll come as we go,” he encouraged, “But your pronunciation is perfect. You’re a natural.”

“I’ve got a good teacher.”

Torian put a hand on her knee, and she tensed as a reflex, but didn’t pull away. His hand was warm and her skin tingled where he touched, but she shut out the alarms blaring in her head. Instead, she met his bright eyes with hers.

“Give yourself some credit, Staceasa,” he urged gently, “It’s not like Mando’a is the first language you’ve ever learned. You’re incredibly good with them.”

She managed a smile, “There are a lot more resources on Basic and Huttese, it was easier to get right.”

“When did you even have all that time to pick up two languages?”

Immediately, she felt her heart in her throat, panicking at the thought of divulging details about her adolescence. But Torian was so eager, so genuine in his curiosity. And she’d already told him about her family’s exile. So she swallowed her anxiety and started tracing shapes on her thigh with her fingers.

“I spent a lot of time at the library when my family lived on Nar Shaddaa,” she admitted in nearly a whisper, “My brother was sick and my parents spent all their time worrying about him, so it was a way to forget about all that for awhile. I read pretty much anything I could get my hands on.”

He rubbed his thumb on her knee gently, “Your brother was sick? Is that why you left Csilla?”

Staceasa nodded, looking back down at her lap, “No one on Csilla would treat him because we weren’t part of the Ruling Families. So we moved to Nar Shaddaa with all the credits we had and a hope that you could buy anything there.”

“Did you figure out what was wrong?”

She shook her head, blinking back the tears that threatened in the corner of her eyes. She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out the locket Stanellir gave her, spinning it around in her fingers.

“It wouldn’t have mattered even if we did,” she finally admitted, “I doubt there was anything anyone could have done.”

He put his hand on hers gently, giving her plenty of time and space to pull away if she didn’t want it. But she  _ did _ want it. More than anything, she wanted someone she could trust, someone she could touch. And Torian was so gentle with her, so encouraging. She flipped her hand around under his and squeezed it, clutching the locket in her other hand just as tightly. There wasn’t much she could do about the tears now as the first few slid down her cheeks. Staceasa stared down into her lap until Torian held out his other hand and cupped her cheek, wiping a tear off with his thumb. His face was pained, but he didn’t look away when she met his gaze. Somehow she hadn’t ever noticed just how blue his eyes were before; they were swirling oceans, currents pulling her in, daring her to try and swim out of them.

“ _ N'eparavu takisit _ ,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She shook her head and sniffled, “It’s okay. I haven’t told anyone about Stanellir since he died, it’s about time someone knew I even had family.”

“I am honored that you would trust me enough to tell me,” he replied, squeezing her hand, “You two must have been close.”

Staceasa nodded, and took as deep a breath as her lungs would allow her, “He was my best friend. We did everything together as kids.”

Torian rubbed her thumb with his, urging her gently as she collected herself again. She was trying her hardest not to shudder and sob, but couldn’t hold them in anymore, feeling herself breaking along her edges and her grief oozing out of her skin. She missed Stanellir so much that it was nearly unbearable; when he died, she was alone and broken and for nearly a decade, she’d basically stayed that way. But now here was Torian, wrapping her in his arms, whispering in her ear that everything would be okay.

“ _ Udesii, udesii, udesii, ner vod _ ,” he soothed. 

His voice alone was keeping her together, relaxing her as she leaned against him. Nellir wouldn’t have wanted her to sob like this, not for him. But he wouldn’t have wanted her to shut herself off to all other emotional and physical contact, either, and yet here she was. Letting ten years of grief out in a couple hours in the arms of a very patient Mandalorian. Her heart felt as shattered as it had been all those years ago. She felt raw and broken and hurt. But Torian ran his hands up and down her back, and she felt a shiver run up her spine. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was enough to get her out of her swirling thoughts. She ran her fingers over the locket still in her hand, trying to breathe to the slow pace of her spinning.

“ _ Gar serim _ ,” Torian encouraged gently as her sobs began to quiet.

She pulled away from him to wipe her nose with the sleeve of her shirt, but kept her other hand in his.

“ _ Vor entye _ , Torian,” she said quietly.

His face lit up as she said it, and he leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers.

“ _ Ba'gedet'ye _ , Staceasa,” he replied.

She finally looked into his eyes again, composed enough to give him a little smile, “How’s my Mando’a when I’m crying?”

Torian didn’t miss a beat as he wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb, “It’s perfect.”


	4. Nar Shaddaa (Round 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for depictions of injuries, blood mention

“Something isn’t right,” Torian remarked cautiously, stopping before the entrance to the private lounge in the cantina, “It’s too quiet in there for a Mando’ad celebration.”

Staceasa frowned, “Maybe they’re all so drunk they passed out.”

He shook his head, pulling out his polesaber, “Just keep your guard up.”

She put a hand to her blaster and nodded before slowly pushing open the door. Torian slipped in without a sound, Staceasa right behind him.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the lounge, and Torian held out his arm in front of her.

“Trouble,” he warned.

It didn’t take long to see the trouble he was talking about; even in the dim light, she could see there was blood spatter over nearly every surface, bits and pieces of droids and sentients scattered on the floor around them. A Zabrak was face-first on the floor close to them, and Staceasa hesitantly knelt beside it and pushed the body onto its back.

“Jew’la Nightbringer,” she said, turning and looking up at Torian. His face hardened and he nodded solemnly, tightening his grip on his polesaber.

Staceasa put out one of her hands, and Torian helped her to her feet. They crept silently to the next doorway, hearing voices growing louder as they went. It seemed the group of assassins was talking to someone on the holoterminal in the next room.

Staceasa poked her head around the corner and counted sixteen assassins, the leader of whom was a Miralukan Jedi. Torian stood beside her, waiting for a signal.

“I’m sorry, but they refused to cooperate. No sign of the fugitive,” the Miraluka reported to the image on the holoterminal.

Without thinking, Staceasa stepped forward, stalking with her blaster drawn and her head held high into the room, “If you wanted a fight, all you had to do was ask.”

“No matter. Advance the timeline. Adeline, call in for support,” the Jedi on the holoterminal, which Staceasa recognized as the same one from Quesh, continued as if she hadn’t offered a challenge, “Thendys was certain you could be reasoned with. I was mistaken to indulge her. This is your last opportunity to surrender peacefully. Don’t be as foolish as your friends here.”

Her heart was pounding, irate and bitter and grief-stricken. He must have thought she was real fool.

“I won’t let you get away with killing my friends,” she replied evenly, even as she felt her emotions raging inside her. 

The Jedi Master seemed unmoved, nodding once and turning to the Miraluka, “Swift justice then. Adeline.”

A beeping immediately began near them, and everyone in the room whipped their heads around, searching for the source of it; Torian found it first, grabbing hold of Staceasa and lunging backwards just as the broken corpse of the Defenestrator exploded, sending scraps of shrapnel flying in every direction. There were screams from the other side of the room, presumably the SIS assassins accompanying the Jedi, and Staceasa threw her arms over her face. A second later, Torian let out a pained grunt beside her as he pushed himself to his feet, bleeding from half a dozen places from his side and back. 

If she’d had the luxury, Staceasa would have worried about him hurting himself further, but as it was, the Miraluka was still standing and sprinting across the room to the two of them. Staceasa only had just enough time to aim before the Jedi was close enough to hit her lightsaber against Torian’s polesaber. 

The Jedi deflected the blaster fire with her lightsaber, but it gave Torian enough of an opening to get a good swipe in and take her off balance. Staceasa scrambled to her feet, firing all the way; a few other assassins had gotten to their feet, as well, making their way for the Mandalorians. Staceasa didn’t want to leave Torian to take on a Jedi alone, but she didn’t exactly have much choice in the matter given they were still outnumbered four to one. She took a centering breath and aimed her blasters at the remaining assassins, trusting that Torian could hold his own long enough.

The first two assassins went down easily, not expecting her to aim for them so quickly; she took the two in the front of the group, shooting at each of them exactly three times. The rest quickly realized they would have to deal with her before they moved to protect their Jedi leader. Staceasa dropped into a roll behind an upturned table as they fired on her; one shot grazed her ankle and she snarled, taking out the assassin who shot her with a blast between his eyes. She snuck a glance to Torian, who looked like he was faring at least as well as she was for the moment. 

She sent a round in that direction for good measure anyway.

One of the remaining assassins rewarded her selflessness with a shot through her shoulder, ripping her attention from Torian to the searing pain that reverberated down her arm and through her chest. Staceasa slumped to the floor in a painful thud, keeping her back to the table.

“ _ Haar’chak, hut'uunla shabuir _ ,” she muttered angrily, gritting her teeth as she readied herself to take another shot at them. Quickly, she stretched, turned, and fired at the assassin who hit her. Even though she shot with her uninjured left hand, she recoiled from the pain, hissing and spitting as it flew wide.

Another shot from the assassins whizzed past her head, quickly bringing her back to the fight at hand. She still had five living targets, plus the Jedi, whose lightsaber was still zooming in the background of her thoughts. The odds definitely were not in her favor, but she’d had worse. 

_ Five assassins left, Staceasa. Focus. _

She pushed herself up and at the same moment she turned around, she laid down as much cover fire as she could manage, trying to gauge the situation. One of the assassins fell to the floor, the other four ran for cover, splitting up as they lunged for tables and counters and debris piles.

No grenades, then.

Torian growled from the other side of the room, sending a shiver up her spine. She had to work fast and get to him.

_ Four assassins left, Staceasa. _

The one closest to her hid under one of the metal bar counters, and he was itching to get a shot at her; even as he ducked for cover, he was returning fire at random. He stuck the hand with the blaster above the counter and she immediately shot the gun from his hand. With a yelp, he fell backward, giving Staceasa enough time to leap from her position to his and finish the job.

_ Three assassins left. _

The Jedi made a blood-curdling scream, drawing the attention of the remaining assassins. It wasn’t much, but it gave Staceasa enough of an opening to hit the bulkiest of the three in the neck. She wasn’t sure if he was actually dead or not, but he fell to the ground with a hard thud, his gun skittering across the tile floors.

_ Two assassins. _

At some point, the two left had joined up, and they were now hiding behind the same crate. Staceasa stood to her full height and hurled a smoke grenade in their direction, following it herself. She heard coughing and groaning from the two assassins and she smirked as she let out another round.

_ One. _

The smoke was clearing just enough that the last assassin saw the barrel of her blaster, and he had enough time to realize what it was and widen his eyes in fear before she pulled the trigger.

She didn’t have time to enjoy her victory, however, as lightsaber was still swinging wildly against polesaber behind her. Torian was fighting valiantly, matching the Jedi’s swings with his own, deflecting and counterattacking. It nearly took Staceasa’s breath away watching him, but the Jedi released her lightsaber with one hand and pulled her free hand back behind her. Staceasa fired a shot to the other arm of the Jedi, succeeding in getting her to drop the weapon, but her open hand was still gathering strength out of Staceasa’s line of sight.

“Torian!” she cried, “Duck!”

But it was too late; the Jedi pushed with a massive wave of the Force, sending Torian flying backwards. Staceasa was far enough away that the potency of the attack was only enough to push her a bit and agitate her injured shoulder, but she kept her feet. 

The Miraluka turned her head slowly to face the Chiss - which was ridiculous, since she was  _ blind _ and could see Staceasa just as well if she was behind her - and recalled her lightsaber to her hand, igniting its blue blade in the darkness of the room.

Staceasa stood wide, her left blaster drawn in front of her; she wasn’t stupid enough to shoot first, not while the Jedi’s full attention was on her. Her shoulder was whining and she grimaced, letting her blaster down just enough that the Jedi took advantage and started sprinting. Staceasa dodged the Jedi’s swing in a roll, landing on her good shoulder before she jumped up and turned around.

But the Jedi disappeared.

“ _ Shit _ ,” Staceasa growled almost silently, spinning around wildly trying to find her opponent.

_ When you cannot trust your eyes, close them _ , she thought, shutting her eyes and listening to the room. There was buzzing from scorched electrical units, grumbling from the filtration system, and  _ footsteps _ .

She fired to her right and the shot hit the wall.

The Jedi started laughing but Staceasa couldn’t pinpoint where the noise was coming from.

“Fuck you,” she spat, “Don’t fight me like a coward.”

“I highly doubt you’d like that very much,” her voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once, “A blaster has practically no defense against a lightsaber. I doubt you’d last half as long as your boyfriend did.”

“Boyfrie-?”  _ Fuck, Torian. _

He was only a dozen steps from her, and she crossed the room to him quickly, kneeling down and putting her hand on his chest.

“Torian?” she asked hesitantly.

“I’m okay,” he wheezed, eyes shut, “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

Somehow, he’d managed to hold onto his polesaber through the blast, and Staceasa tugged at it gently.

He groaned quietly, “What are you doing?”

“We’re switching weapons,” she explained as she took it from him, placing her blasters on the floor next to him, “I can’t fight one-on-one against a lightsaber. Not in close quarters like this.”

Torian wrapped his hand around hers, and when she looked at him he’d opened his eyes, looking at her earnestly, “You sure?”

She nodded even as she desperately swallowed her fear, “I got this.”

Somewhere behind her a lightsaber swung impatiently.

“ _ K’oyacyi _ , Staceasa,” Torian called as she stood to face the Miraluka.

The lights were flickering dramatically around the Jedi and Staceasa took a deep breath before stepping forward.

“I see you’ve decided on dying then,” the Jedi smirked.

Staceasa scowled, “Stop being a fucking drama queen and fight me fairly.”

“Very well.”

The Jedi leaped forward in a blur of blue and Staceasa only just got the polesaber up in time to block the lightsaber, keeping it off her neck by inches. She grunted and pushed forward, unbalancing the Jedi enough that she had to back up a step before attacking again. 

Staceasa was ready this time, her stance wide and low, as she blocked the next swing easily before shifting to parry. She connected with skin and the Miraluka hissed as she rolled out of the worst of it. But Staceasa knew she couldn’t outlast a Jedi in a defensive position - particularly not since her shoulder was injured - so she swung again and again, colliding with the Jedi’s lightsaber every time, feeling her shoulder starting to give out with every swing, but also knowing the Jedi was losing steam and she had to  _ keep pushing _ .

The Miraluka grunted with every hit, trying to push Staceasa off and get back into her own rhythm, but Staceasa was stronger than she was, even with the busted shoulder. She seemed hesitant to use the Force again, which Staceasa took as a good sign, but every time the Miraluka shifted her grip on her lightsaber, she pressed harder and made the Jedi focus all of her energy on her.

But on the last swing, the hit that would have connected with bone and ended this fucking fight, Staceasa’s shoulder gave out and she lost her grip entirely on the polesaber. She cried out in pain as her weapon slung out of her hand and skittered across the floor, clanging loudly as it went.

Staceasa watched it in horror as she realized she was suddenly defenseless, but it was already too late as she turned her head back to the Miraluka.

She felt the lightsaber before she even saw it, singeing her skin and sliding effortlessly through bone and flesh, passing through her ribcage. It burned as it touched her, carving a neat hole right through her chest, piercing one of her lungs and any number of other things inside her. The pain was as blinding as the light, and Staceasa was so overwhelmed she didn’t even let out a sound at first. The Miraluka was close enough that she was pressing a cold flat hand to her back, holding Staceasa impaled on the lightsaber.

She gasped and sputtered as the pain feathered out from her chest into her stomach to her shoulders and hips and arms and legs. She tried to focus on anything in front of her to keep from passing out.

A flash of armor behind the Jedi got her to grin through the pain.

“Gotchya,” she murmured as Torian came up from behind and took one shot through the Jedi’s heart.

The lightsaber immediately disengaged and the Jedi’s body slumped to the ground, Staceasa not far behind her. But Torian caught her with a grunt, setting her down gently.

Her holocom beeped quietly and she groaned as she struggled to get it out; Torian leaned over her and reached in her pocket for her, handing it gently to her so she could answer it.

“Ceasa, we’re just about read-” Mako stopped suddenly, “W-what happened? Are you okay?”

“No,” Staceasa rasped painfully, gasping for breath as she held as tight as she could to Torian. Her vision was starting to blur from the pain and the fact that every breath she took felt like fire in her lungs and chest was certainly not helping matters. The room was spinning and it was making her head hurt almost as much as the rest of her. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on anything. Anything but the pain spiralling through her so strongly and fiercely she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take it.

She felt Torian take the holocom from her hand gently and tried to focus on him instead. The softness of his hand as it brushed against hers, the gentle way he cradled her against his chest in the crook of his arm, the concern and worry in his voice as he argued quietly with Mako to stay on the ship.

“I’ll carry her back. You and the others stay there and make sure the kolto tank is prepped.”

“Torian, I can see you, you’re not exactly unharmed either. We can get you both.”

“I’m  _ fine _ , Mako. Staceasa is our only concern right now. The longer we spend waiting around and arguing, the more likely…” 

Even Staceasa heard the unsaid words as Torian trailed off.

Mako sighed, “Fine. But hurry back. Gault and I will get the medbay prepped.”

Torian nodded and ended the call, shoving her holocom in his own pocket before taking her hand in his.

“Ceasa,” he urged gently, “I need you to stay with me.”

She nodded, face scrunched in pain, but managed to squeeze his hand gently. Or, at least she thought she did.

With a grunt, Torian swept her up in his arms and held her to his chest. The movement sent another stabbing pain through her body and she inhaled sharply through her teeth.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized in a whisper.

She shook her head, fighting for every breath, “It-it’s f-fine.”

Consciousness was slipping from her, the edges of her vision getting blurry and distorted. She was losing words, losing feeling in her fingers and arms as the darkness was swirling in around her.

“ _ K’oyacyi _ , Ceasa,” Torian whispered.

She managed a shallow nod before everything went dark.

\---

Staceasa was sure of exactly two things when she woke up again: she  _ definitely  _ had been stabbed through the chest by a lightsaber, and she had  _ definitely  _ somehow survived it. There was far too much pain for her to have woken up in purgatory or whatever came after death. Her whole body was throbbing, and whenever she tried to inhale it hurt so much she saw spots in her eyelids and thought she might pass out again. She didn’t even try to open her eyes at first, having enough difficulty just trying to breathe. 

“You want something for that?” the easy-going voice of the Devaronian chimed, “I know how much you hate people touching you with kolto, but it might be worth it.”

She swallowed and nodded, hurting too much for the panic to settle in.

Gault was whistling as he shuffled around the medbay, gathering a few materials before he settled into the chair beside her bed. He continued to whistle as he started to smear kolto on her bare chest, as if he was doing a normal day’s work and nothing about this was out of the ordinary for them. Staceasa shuddered as the cool gel first touched her, causing her to groan quietly.

“I’d apologize, but that was entirely your own fault,” he said, only breaking his song for a second before continuing.

“Shut the fuck up, Rennow,” she hissed.

He barked a laugh, “You’re sounding like yourself already, my dear.”

She finally opened her eyes again when Gault sat her up so he could wrap her wounds. The medbay was in disarray, but they were alone in it.

“Where’s Torian? Is he okay?” she asked.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine,” Gault replied, “He’s been pacing a hole in floor of the cargo bay for the last day and a half.”

Staceasa exhaled in relief, feeling little tendrils of pain spiral out from her chest as she did it, “How long have I been out?”

Gault tucked the last end of the wrapping and frowned in thought, “Three? Four days?”

Fuck, she’d lost a lot of time. Gault eased her back into the bed, taking his hands off as quickly as he could when she rested back against the pillows.

“Take it easy for awhile,” he commented, “Mako’s got us in deep space for now, it should be a good enough place to hide until we can get our bearings again.”

Staceasa nodded, already feeling the exhaustion setting in around her eyes, “I’m sure there are some folks who’d like my head right about now.”

“Even more than usual,” Gault quipped, “So you just relax and heal up. I don’t want to have to fight those guys when they come after us again.”

She managed a shaky laugh, “Thanks, Gault.”

“Don’t say I never did anything for you.” 

\---

The lights in the medbay were dark when she woke again, the soft blue of the kolto tank and the little green and red lights of the machinery the only things lighting up the room. The ship was quiet, presumably the other members of the crew were asleep across the hall in their quarters. It was just as well. Staceasa slowly flexed her hands and feet, making sure everything was still there and working. She put three fingers gently to her chest, feeling through the cloth wrappings the indentation from the scar. She grimaced when she pressed on it, but she could breathe again, at least. At some point, someone had wrapped her injured shoulder, as well, which she put a hand to. It prickled under her touch, but seemed to be alright otherwise. She rolled it a little bit, but seized up when it sent sears down her arm, gasping from the pain.

“ _ Udesii _ ,” a familiar Mandalorian drawl said groggily beside her, taking her hand in his and drawing it back from her shoulder gently, “Don’t hurt yourself.”

She hadn’t even realized Torian was beside her, and she felt the bed rustle as he pulled his feet off it. The motion sensors finally picked up on them, the lights slowly turning up so she could see his face and the bandages that covered his torso.

“Torian,” she murmured.

“I’m here,” he replied gently in the growing light, “What do you need, Staceasa?”

The pain was easing slowly and she squeezed his hand in hers, “Nothing, I’m okay. Just give me a minute.”

He nodded, sitting at the edge of the seat while he waited for her to settle again.

“How are your injuries?” she asked, looking him up and down.

Torian shrugged, “I’ve had worse. Lucky to get out as unscathed as I did.”

“Wasn’t luck,” Staceasa said with a little grin at the corners of her mouth.

He smiled sadly, “Luckier than the others.”

Staceasa frowned, “I don’t remember seeing Bloodworthy, did he-?” She broke off mid-question as Torian’s face fell and he shook his head.

“Nobody got out other than us.”

She took her hand from his and put it to her forehead with a sigh; she didn’t even have the words to reply to that. To finally have a place where she belonged, people who found her worthy and celebrated with her, and have them torn from her so easily. It was entirely too reminiscent of her teenage years, and she felt a lump threatening in her throat. How long was it going to be until she lost her crew, too? 

She moved her hand from her forehead to cover her eyes and swallowed a sob.

Her crew was safe. She was still Mandalorian. She still had Mako, Gault, Blizz, and Torian. Still had a family. And she’d do anything to keep them safe.

“I’m sorry, Staceasa,” Torian said finally, his voice low and soft, “You’ve lost so many people who were important to you. This isn’t easy for any of us, but it must be particularly awful for you.”

She nodded, moving her hand back to his, “I’ll be okay. Always am. Besides, this time is different.”

“How so?”

Staceasa turned her head to him and squeezed his hand, “I couldn’t avenge my brother or my parents, but I can avenge the Champions. I can make this one right.”

Torian smiled softly, “I’m with you all the way. They deserved better deaths than the ones they got.”

Someone knocked on the door and both Torian and Staceasa looked over to find Mako standing there in lounge pants and a loose shirt, looking nervous and holding a holocom.

“Boss?”

Staceasa grumbled as she shuffled to more or less a sitting position with Torian’s help, “What’s up, Mako?”

She entered hesitantly, “I think you need to take a look at this.”

Mako pulled over a chair and held out the holocom so the three of them could see it; when she pressed the power switch, the vaguely familiar image of the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic appeared, his arms gesticulating grandly as he addressed presumably the body of Senators if not the whole Republic.

“The attack claimed the lives of a delegation of Jedi and Republic officials on Nar Shaddaa,” Janarus announced, “The apprehension of the individual responsible for the continuation of these acts of aggression is our top priority. Senators, I assure you, the orchestrators of these attacks will be made to account for them.”

Staceasa closed her eyes and sighed, not having the energy to work up any stronger emotions, “Well, that’s fucked up isn’t it?”

Mako nodded, putting away the holocom and reaching for a datapad, scrolling through her notes, “It gets worse; I was looking around the HoloNet and the Republic has put you on the top of its most wanted list. The list of charges is a kilometer long - half of them we didn’t even do. They’re offering ten million credits for your capture. And Imperial officials have been burning every bridge between us; hiding in Imperial territory is looking a lot less likely.”

Torian’s face pursed to a deep frown, and his hands fidgeted in his lap, “Where does that leave us?”

“I don’t really know,” Mako admitted quietly, still not looking up from the datapad, “that’s why I came to show you.”

Staceasa thought for a moment, her head still a little fuzzy, “Well, how safe are we here?”

Mako shrugged, “Safe enough. This is pirate-controlled space, so as long as we stay out of the way, we should be left alone. At least until someone figures out who we are.”

“Alright. It’ll have to do,” she replied with a nod, “Can you dig up some more research on the Chancellor? He must be getting something out of this that he shouldn’t be.”

“Will do, boss,” Mako said, sounding a little cheerier, “If he’s got dirt, I’ll find it.”

Staceasa shut her eyes again and put her head back on the wall behind her, feeling Torian’s fingers intertwine with hers. Well, if she had to fight the whole galaxy, at least she didn’t have to do it alone.


	5. Belsavis

It had been three weeks since Staceasa could take a proper shower without someone hanging at the door to make sure she didn’t keel over and hit her head. The water stung a bit on her chest and shoulder, but it was delightfully warm and for the first time in nearly a month she could take her time and just breathe. She put a hand to her chest gently, running her fingers over the scar there for the upteenth time; she already knew the ridges and crevices, but she couldn’t stop touching them anyway. Her injured shoulder was still stiff, and Gault said she wouldn’t get her full range of motion back for a few months, but the hot water eased the tension and the pain stored in it, at least. Staceasa ran her hands through her hair until her arms ached - she still had a long way to go before she was ready for combat again. Hell, she still had a long way to go before she could start  _ training _ again. She exhaled in frustration as she turned off the water and reached for a towel to dry off.

When she was finally at least vaguely presentable, she opened the door from her bedroom to see Mako, Gault, and Blizz all lounging on the couches quietly. Mako was playing some sort of game on her datapad, Blizz watching over her shoulder excitedly; Gault took up a whole couch, lazily swirling a glass of something with one hand while his other arm was draped over his face. At least they wouldn’t be expecting Staceasa to do much.

“Nice to see you, Captain,” Gault announced with a grand dramatic gesture from his free arm, “please, come join us.”

Staceasa sat gingerly on the lone unoccupied sofa, picking up a datapad as she went. There probably wasn’t anything interesting in the news to read, but occasionally it was entertaining to read gossip about the mysterious bounty hunter who has somehow evaded the entire Republic. Rumors abounded about her location, her appearance, her companions, and her escapades. Almost none of them were true, of course, but it was fun, all the same. Her favorite story at the moment was one that was following a shifty looking Mirialan who seemed to flirt with everyone he saw - including death on a regular basis - and retreated to his wife on Dubrillion every couple weeks after some glorious heist. It was ridiculous and very obviously just a ploy to sell subscriptions, but it was so incredibly far from true that she couldn’t help but laugh. She must have had some sort of grin left on her face when Torian ascended the stairs and sat beside her because he looked her over and raised an eyebrow.

“You doing okay?”

She nodded, “Never been better.”

Torian shook his head, but smiled at her, “You know that friend I said you remind me of?”

“Corridan Ordo?” 

He nodded, “Got a holocall from him. Turns out Corridan heard about us taking down Jicoln on Taris. Sent me an invitation.”

Staceasa looked up and met his eyes with vague concern, “I hope he didn’t draw a line in the sand.”

“Over Jicoln? No. He’d have done the same as us,” he explained, moving his hand towards her before hesitantly pulling it back to his lap, “Anyway, he said he’s hunting big game, and offered to let me in on it. I plan to take him up on that, and wanted to let you know. Won’t be long.”

She rubbed her injured shoulder absently, her voice quieter, “Normally, I’d object to you hunting big game without me, but I’m pretty sure Corridan wouldn’t be impressed with me at the moment.”

Torian only laughed and shuffled on his cushion, “Are you kidding? There aren’t many Mando’ade who can say they’d been stabbed by a lightsaber and lived to tell the tale!”

Gault snorted quietly, getting a round of giggles from Mako and Blizz. Staceasa blinked slowly in Gault’s direction, knowing full well he wouldn’t see her; Torian blushed furiously beside her.

“Anyway,” Torian said, clearing his throat and pushing off the couch, “Corridan should be here soon, so I should get ready.”

Staceasa nodded and looked back down to her datapad, “Just don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

He grinned, “Yes, ma’am.”

Gault snorted again and Staceasa threw a pillow at him.

“Hey!” he yelled, turning around to look at her incredulously, “I didn’t even do anything!”

She stared at him for a few seconds until he was uncomfortable enough to look away first, only then allowing herself a little grin. 

It didn’t take long before there was a clanking of the docking extension, signaling Corridan’s arrival. Staceasa pushed herself up from the couch, grimacing as she went, but Torian bounded up the stairs, blue eyes wide and excited.

“That’s Corridan,” he announced.

Staceasa smiled at him and threw her hand to his before her brain even registered what her traitorous hand was doing.

He was so surprised by her movement that he was at a loss for words for a moment, but he squeezed her hand in his as if he was afraid she’d realize what she’d done and she’d pull out of his grasp. She did, of course, realize what she’d done, but for some unknown reason she didn’t  _ want _ to pull away, pushing her anxieties to the back of her mind as hard as she could. Must’ve been the pain-killing drugs still filtering through her system that fuzzied her judgment. Still, though, his hand was warm and rough and gentle. She’d been so much more distracted by pain when he took her hand in the medbay that she didn’t really have a chance to determine just how she felt about it. But standing in front of Torian now, running her thumb over his, she decided she liked this feeling. She wasn’t even going to question the lack of a panicked response.

The hissing of the airlock interrupted her thoughts, and Torian could not have looked more dismayed if he tried. Staceasa shook her head and chuckled quietly, squeezing his hand and releasing it.

He took a second for his mouth to catch up to his brain, “Catch you later.”

“ _ K’oyacyi _ , Torian,” she replied.

He nodded, wringing his hands as he turned and descended the stairs. 

As soon as Torian was out of the ship, Gault let out an exasperated sigh and muttered, “ _ Dammit. _ ”

Staceasa looked in his direction, “What is that for?”

He held up his glass, “The alcohol is gone.”

“Gault, it’s still half full.”

He pulled his arm off his face and looked down at his hand and by extension, his drink.

“Oh, so it is. I take that back then.”

Staceasa shook her head and wandered to the cockpit. She sat in her seat and grunted as her knees came up to her chest; Mako had been sitting up here lately, and she evidently hadn’t thought to move the seat back. She reached under the seat to find the lever, feeling something in her chest pull uncomfortably as she did it. But Staceasa was nothing if not persistent. And she was  _ not _ going to let a little muscle strain keep her from sitting in her cockpit. 

“So, are you going to tell me what all that was about?” Mako called from the doorway, the sudden noise scaring Staceasa into jumping, but her arm was still caught under the chair and her shoulder popped in its socket. 

Staceasa grunted, pulling herself up and putting a hand to her shoulder.

“Oh, stars, Staceasa, I’m sorry,” Mako apologized, rushing into the room beside her.

Staceasa grimaced and put up the hand on her good arm, “No, no, it’s fine,  _ umph _ .”

Mako edged closer in an attempt to help, but Staceasa tensed and took a step backward, hitting the chair with her leg and slumping into it with a groan. 

“I’ll go get some bacta and ice,” Mako stammered, pulling back and rushing out of the room.

Staceasa leaned back and closed her eyes in a grimace.  _ Dammit _ .

\---

When Torian returned a week later, Staceasa still wore the ice packs on her shoulder and she laid on the couch with another on her chest. All told, it probably could have been worse, and she probably didn’t need them, but Mako kept running around and apologizing and fussing and it was really just easier to accept it than to fight her.

Her eyes were closed, but she could still hear Torian’s boots climb the stairs.

“How was it?” she asked when the cushions shifted as he sat at the edge of the couch.

She could practically hear his eyes light up in his reply, “Amazing! Met Corridan and half my unit on Dxun. Good hunting. Bomas and Maalraas mostly. Jagger bagged a Zakkeg. Lucky Ja’re.”

Staceasa looked up at him and smiled, half-expecting to see new scars under his cheeks. He was grinning from ear to ear, practically giddy from his adventures.

“I’m glad you had fun,” she noted, putting her good hand on his forearm lightly and feeling the shiver run through him.

Torian put his hand on hers, “Got a few new stories to tell. Can’t ask for much else.”

“Hey, boss!” Mako called from the cockpit, having reclaimed the pilot’s seat again since Staceasa’s last catastrophe up there, “You’re going to want to come up here.”

Staceasa sat up with a groan, and a pull from Torian brought her to her feet. Gault and Blizz joined the three of them in the cockpit.

“We’ve got a high priority communication coming through,” Mako said, flipping switches as she talked, “It’s an Imperial summons. We’re to rendezvous with an Imperial fleet in the Outer Rim - uncomfortably close to us now, actually - to discuss our ‘recent activities.’”

“ _ Discussion _ ? Yeah, I bet,” Gault scoffed more than a little nervously.

Mako only looked to Staceasa, “It doesn’t sound like a request.”

“I guess we don’t have much of a choice, then,” she sighed, rubbing at her chest absently, “How long until we reach their position?”

“Couple hours, tops.”

“Then we better get ready.”

Gault put out a hand to stop her from leaving the cockpit, “Whoa, whoa, you’re not suggesting we’re actually going to take on an Imperial fleet? Listen, I love the Mantis as much as the next guy, but if they fire on us, we’re toast.”

Staceasa looked at him with a wry grin, pushing his hand out her way, “Of course we wouldn’t win. But that doesn’t mean we can’t put up a fight.”

“How does that solve  _ anything _ ?” he called down the hall, but Staceasa ignored him, looking over to Torian and Blizz as they followed her. 

\---

Her armor rested uncomfortably on her shoulders, but she couldn’t risk looking like she had a weakness. She’d encountered enough Sith to know that they pounced on any opening they could find, and surely there would be at least one Sith in the area. It’s not like the Empire had the courage to fight without their psychopathic Force-wielding overlords. 

She was out of shape and still uneasy wielding a blaster with her right hand, but she could hold it steady enough to get a few rounds off before she’d have to switch to her left again. It was actually rather comforting to have armor and weapons again, to feel like she had control over her surroundings. But she knew it wasn’t going to last as soon as they met their hailers.

Mako gladly handed over the controls of the Mantis - moving the seat back as she left this time - so she herself could prepare, leaving Staceasa in the cockpit alone with the vastness of hyperspace and her ship beneath her fingers. There was a light flashing above her, and she flicked it off with her finger before turning on the ship’s intercom system.

“We’re coming out of hyperspace, everyone up front.”

She heard four pairs of footsteps racing up the stairs and clanging down the hall as they all came to join her. 

As soon as they exited the blue swathes of hyperspace, a fleet of Imperial ships manifested in front of them.

“I hope you’re right about this,” Mako said nervously.

“Look on the bright side,” Gault commented, “They open fire and we’ll be breaking the galactic record going from zero to space dust.”

Staceasa shot him a dirty look, “Not helpful, Gault.”

“Battle stations?” Torian asked, putting his hand on the top of Staceasa’s chair.

“Warm up the turrets, but keep the targeting computers on standby.”

Torian nodded and slid into the seat at the front corner of the room, “Blizz, shields.”

“Ooh, Blizz get to try new modifications to system!” the Jawa replied, bounding down the stairs as fast as his legs would take him.

Staceasa nodded and looked forward seriously, shoving down her nerves, “Hail the flagship.”

Mako plugged away at the controls, talking as she went, “You know this is probably a trap. Even if they don’t shoot us down, handing us over to the Republic would probably help deflect the flak they’ve been getting.”

“Maybe, but we’ll find out soon enough.”

Gault made a noise from beside her, “Oh, that’s comforting.”

Mako ignored him, “Hailing… they’re transmitting a flight path. We’re to dock in hangar eight.”

“They aren’t shooting at us… that’s a good start.”

“Well, we’re committed now.”

Staceasa flew the Mantis into the belly of the Imperial ship ahead of them, following the trajectory they sent precisely, keeping a wary eye on anything that might have been a trap. Her stomach was starting to twist into knots with anticipation, and she jumped out of her seat as soon as they touched down, practically dragging her crew with her. 

Much to their surprise, there was no firing squad waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp, but there was a squirrelly looking officer surrounded by ominous-looking guards. 

Staceasa didn’t even give them a chance to say anything before calling to them, “My presence was requested.”

The officer met her steely gaze, “I’ve been ordered to bring you before my lord, Darth Tormen. Submit to search and seizure and come quietly.”

Gault snorted behind her.

“I don’t really care for that plan,” she replied, putting her hands gingerly on her blasters and holding back a grimace when she rolled her shoulder back.

“You are under the jurisdiction of this Imperial vessel, and I will not permit you to remain armed in the presence of a Lord of the Sith,” the officer replied, signalling the others to aim their weapons, “You will comply, willingly or by force.”

Staceasa pulled out her blaster and stood wide, “Somehow, I don’t think that would even matter.”

The officer looked at her incredulously before raising his arm and crying, “Seize this scum!”

Torian pounced into action, taking three of the six guards out in one swing of his polesaber, and even injured, Staceasa wouldn’t miss a shot at point-blank range. She quickly took out the remaining two Imps, and shot the officer - a Lieutenant she could see now - in the leg, sending him immediately to a knee.

“You won’t get away with this,” he hissed.

“Oh, get over it,” Gault replied as he took the final shot.

Mako started pacing around the room, “Now what do we do? Make a run for it?”

Staceasa looked at her crew one by one, “I doubt they’ll let us go easily. Let’s see what this boss of theirs really wants from us. Mako, Gault, Blizz, hold the position here. I’m not losing a path back to the Mantis. Torian, with me.”

A small chorus of “Yes ma’am”, and “Sure”, and “Whatever you say” went around the room. The Chiss nodded once and headed down the hall, knowing Torian was right beside her.

The hallways were surprisingly empty, with only a handful of guards giving them any resistance, and they were easily taken out by Torian. 

“I see you’ve dispatched your escort,” came the booming voice of a Sith Lord from the room beside them. Staceasa’s hair stood on end as he spoke, but she entered his office defiantly, head held high, her lips pressed together tightly.

“Can’t say I appreciate Sith hospitality,” she spat, still holding her blasters in her hands despite the ache in her right shoulder.

“Start,” he commanded calmly, though the threat was loud and clear, “Destroy what is mine again and I shall return the favor.”

He threw out one of his creepy red hands, sending a ripple through the air, raising Torian off the ground and choking him.

“Alright, asshole,” Staceasa blurted without thinking, feeling her heartbeat in her throat as Torian struggled in vain to pull off the invisible force that held him, “put the Mandalorian down. _ Now _ .”

Tormen looked at her with some sort of vague amusement on his face, but he clenched his hand in a fist, and Torian dropped to the ground.

“Gonna remember that,” he said hoarsely, rubbing at his throat as he pushed himself to his feet again. Staceasa looked to him, trying to mask the fear and worry she was feeling as best she could. The Sith could not know she had a weakness. 

“What the fuck do you want?” she demanded.

“Today, Corellia’s leadership swore allegiance to the Sith Empire. Despite total occupation, the people openly rebel. What should have been a bloodless victory has escalated into full-scale war. The Treaty of Coruscant is no more. I want the Supreme Chancellor’s head in my hand when I deliver victory to the Dark Council. You will provide it.”

Staceasa holstered her weapons and crossed her arms over her chest, but didn’t reply. Of all the scenarios she’d played out in her head, she hadn’t anticipated a Sith Lord actually hiring her for a  _ job _ . He could have just said that in his initial communication and the whole incident with the guards could have been avoided. She bit back the wince at the thought.

“If wealth and acclaim are not enough incentive, perhaps revenge will motivate you,” he continued, displaying the image of the Jedi Master Jun Seros on his holo, “You have made an enemy of the Supreme Chancellor’s closest advisor. Do what I ask and you will have your opportunity for vengeance.”

Her eyes flashed to Torian for half a second as the Sith’s words sunk in. Her chest was starting to ache and her shoulder was starting to burn. That damn Jedi had killed her friends - her  _ family _ \- and nearly killed her. She didn’t trust this Sith any further than she could throw him, but she wouldn’t have another better opportunity to avenge the Grand Champions.

Staceasa met the steely gaze of Tormen with her own crimson eyes, wondering if he could feel the blood surging through her body, “You certainly know how to sway a girl.”

“So long as our enemies remain on Coruscant they will be beyond even your reach, but Jun Seros will not be difficult to draw out. Getting to him will put you at striking distance of the Supreme Chancellor. Corellia is where we will put them down, but there are obstacles that must be removed before we can act. You will be the one to remove them.”

“So I’m your errand girl now?” she replied, not even bothering to hide the bitterness in her tone.

Tormen continued without acknowledging her, “Some old enemies from the last war have re-emerged. My associates will brief you when you arrive on Belsavis and Voss.”

Staceasa nodded; it wasn’t like she had much choice in the matter.

“You are free to leave, bounty hunter,” he warned, “but do try to restrain yourself on your way out. I’ve got enough of a mess to clean up as it is.”

Staceasa didn’t even bother to reply as she turned and exited, putting her hand to her ear as soon as she turned the corner, “Mako, the situation is taken care of, you can unlock the hangar. I’ll explain when we get back on the ship.”

The dubious voice of the slicer emerged from her earpiece, “Really? That’s it? Okay, see you soon.”

She clicked off the earpiece and faced Torian, “Are you okay?”

He nodded, still rubbing at his neck, “Never had that happen before. I didn’t expect it to burn so much.”

Staceasa put a hand to his gently, hoping her cool skin might help ease whatever discomfort he was feeling still. 

He exhaled softly, “I’m alright. Let’s just get back to the ship.”

\---

Staceasa held her arm out parallel to her shoulders, blaster in hand, and she fired three times at the dummies set up in the cargo bay. The recoil sent tremors up her arm, but she held steady as the first two shots hit their marks between the eyes. As she aimed the third, she could feel the straining in her muscles, and she felt the gun lower just enough that it hit the third dummy in the mouth rather than the forehead. She muttered a curse and rolled her shoulder; two weeks since they left the ship of Darth Tormen, and she still struggled to aim and fire with that arm. She had half a mind just to lop the whole thing off and replace it; a robotic arm at least could be replaced and repaired in a more timely manner.

A quiet snort from the doorway caught her attention and she turned to see Torian leaning against the frame, a half eaten bar of chocolate in his hand.

“Even when you miss, you hit the target,” he commented dryly.

She looked at him flatly and shook her head, “I’m getting really annoyed not being able to shoot like I want to.”

He gave her a half-grin and held out the chocolate bar, “Given your injuries, I’d say you’ve recovered miraculously quickly, even for a Mandalorian.”

Staceasa hesitantly broke off a piece of the candy and threw it in her mouth, finding it surprisingly complex. One the one hand it was almost disgustingly sweet, but after she chewed it a few times, the spices within the treat seemed to release and left her tongue prickly.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, reaching for another piece.

Torian shrugged, “Bought it on Dxun when I was hunting with Corridan. It’s not like  _ uj’alayi _ , but it keeps better... Ever eaten Mandalorian food? At your adoption, maybe?”

Staceasa eyed him and took a slow bite, “Is that your way of asking me out?”

“Maybe,” he replied, staring down at his feet and blushing, “I thought I might make you some  _ tiingilar _ , see what you think.”

He just watched as she took another chunk from the bar of chocolate. She smiled softly and put her hand on his lightly, “Pick a time, and we’ll have dinner.”

It took a moment before his brain recovered, but eventually he gathered himself and replied mostly evenly, “Good, plan on it later. Take it as a challenge; they say any woman who can survive a plate of _ tiingilar _ is a keeper. I’ll fix you some as soon as we hit another Mando’ade market.”

She nodded, taking her hand off his and turning back towards the dummies,  “Sounds good to me.”

Staceasa was equal parts confused and proud of the fact that she could touch him without doubting herself, without feeling the anxiety swirl in the back of her mind. And while she wasn’t sure she could handle something more than holding his hand at this point, she wasn’t sure she  _ couldn’t _ handle it either. Either way, it had been awhile since anyone on this ship had cooked a meal, and she relished in the thought of having proper Mandalorian food with the other Mandalorian on the ship. The thought of actually going on a date with him wasn’t terrible, either. She honestly couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been on a _ date _ . Mako was probably going to lose her mind over this.

\---

The trip to Belsavis was relatively unexciting; Mako was furiously doing research on the Republic prison-planet and giving Staceasa the snippets of information she could find, Gault was following some rumors about a smuggler he knew who had been in carbonite on the planet for ten years, Blizz was making updates to the Mantis’ systems, and Torian and Staceasa were training. To her relief, she’d at least mostly healed from her escapade on Nar Shaddaa, only feeling twinges in her shoulder occasionally at this point. Her aim was back on point, her range of motion was improving, and her strength was returning. She wouldn’t say she was back to 100% yet, but she was certainly getting there.

As they neared Belsavis, however, Staceasa sat on the couches with Torian quietly, reading some old Mandalorian legends in Mando’a. Every time she muttered a word out loud she saw his face light up, even as he desperately tried to hide it and focus on the datapad in front of him. Sometimes she started reading aloud just to see his reaction, and it was always just as excited. 

She’d read some of the legends before from other perspectives, of course. She’d read of Revan, the Jedi Exile, and their roles in the Mandalorian Wars from centuries before. But never had Mandalore the Preserver, Canderous Ordo, taken such a prominent role in the unfoldings. He was one of the few to have fought beside both Jedi and Sith as an equal, and they respected his own powers as much as he respected theirs. She wondered how closely Corridan was related to Canderous...

Belsavis was arguably one of the strangest planets Staceasa had ever visited; tucked away on the outskirts of the galaxy, the whole planet was frozen like its moon - Hoth, which raised more questions about how the Republic managed to keep this place a secret for so long - but pockets of it were heated by subterranean springs and hot spots, leaving tropical flora and fauna in its wake. These pockets were perfect places for the Republic to set up their base of operations and imprison the millions of criminals they kept here. It was remarkably fool-proof, actually. Even if the prisoners did manage to escape their confinement, they’d find nothing but barren icy wasteland for thousands of kilometers before coming to the next habitable zone. Which, inevitably, was also inhabited by Republic officials who were trained to shoot on sight. Because no one would miss a criminal who was sentenced to die on an enormous prison-planet anyway, right? The whole idea of keeping a secret planet filled with people who may or may not have done any serious crimes really rubbed her the wrong way, but Staceasa didn’t have the luxury to do anything about it at the moment. Tormen had sent her here to retrieve a smuggler named Zale Barrows. He apparently had been instrumental in breaking the Mandalorian blockade in the last war, and had since been transporting folks on and off Belsavis. 

Once they had docked with the planet’s orbital station, Staceasa and Torian were greeted by Tormen’s agent, a Lieutenant Horn of Imperial Intelligence, who explained the mission in greater detail, including giving them the last known location of Barrows on the planet’s surface. He was a snivelling worm of a man, but he was useful enough. No doubt that was the reason Tormen kept him around. 

Staceasa and Torian navigated the minimal security area relatively easily, despite the riots the Empire had incited. Fortunately, the inmates hadn’t gotten organized yet, so the violence was still scattered. She figured deeper into the planet the resistance would be fiercer - the inmates here at least had a chance for freedom. Torian was definitely uneasy about being here, clenching and unclenching his fists on the handles of his speeder, searching constantly for unseen attackers. 

The coordinates Horn had given them led them to a hangar, and as the two Mandalorians stepped over scores of dead bodies, they both tightened their grips on their weapons and walked through the halls cautiously, unsure of what they’d find at the end.

As they entered the hangar itself, there were only two people inside: a beady-eyed Houk, and a bruised Zabrak woman. It didn’t take much to connect the dots from the Houk to the bruises on the woman.

“Sounds like lover boy is coming back,” the Houk taunted as they entered the room still out of his direct line of sight, “Ain’tchya gonna welcome him home?”

He took a swing at the woman, knocking her to the ground with a yelp. Staceasa immediately pulled out her blasters and aimed them both right at the Houk, stepping forward so she was no more than ten paces from him.

The Houk squinted and pointed at her, “Hey, you ain’t Zale. Tell me where he’s hiding, or I’m gonna crush girlie here like a bug.”

Staceasa leveled her guns at him, “Listen, asshole, I’m not with Zale. So back off and leave her alone.”

He laughed an ugly bellowing cruel bray, “Tryin’ to play dumb? Cute. Ain’t gonna work. If killin’ Zale’s girlfriend don’t get you talkin’, I bet I can come up with something that will.”

He didn’t even get a chance to take a full step towards the Zabrak woman before two shots rang out loud and clear in the hangar and he fell flat on his face. The Zabrak was still on the ground, putting her hands to her ears painfully, clenching her eyes shut and rocking back and forth on the ground.

Staceasa holstered her blasters and motioned to Torian to do the same with his polesaber. She immediately knelt beside the other woman, making sure the Houk hadn’t hurt her badly. Torian inspected the corpse of said Houk, kicking it over with his boot and scrunching his face in disgust.

“Are you okay?” Staceasa asked the woman, digging a bacta patch out of her pack and handing it to her.

She nodded, “Thank you. I don’t know what he was going to do if you hadn’t stepped in when you did.”

“I’m just glad we didn’t have to witness it,” she reassured her.

The woman must have spotted the Mandalorian insignia on Staceasa’s armor, though, because she shuffled backwards and gaped at her, “Y-you’re not here to help Zale, are you?”

The Chiss shook her head, “Sorry.”

The Zabrak swallowed hard, “Alright. I know how this goes. I’m dead anyway. Zale… why’d you have to go play the hero? I wanted to leave when the first alarms sounded, but Zale insisted we stay to help evacuate if things got too bad. Ha, ‘too bad’, understatement of the year.”

Staceasa could see the fear and dismay in her eyes; there was no reason for her to hurt the Zabrak, so she sat patiently without making any moves towards the woman or her blasters.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

She sighed, “The central power plant failed, and the hangar doors closed. Even our ship couldn’t put out enough juice to get them open. We were trapped. Zale stormed off after some argument with the warden - said he had ‘unfinished business.’ He took em-three-oh-bee with him to get the central power plant back online. He said not to wait for him. That’s all I know.”

Staceasa nodded and stood, offering her hands to the Zabrak. She looked up dubiously at the Chiss, but took her hands and let Staceasa haul her up.

“We can work with that,” she said, “Thank you.”

The Zabrak looked at her incredulously, “T-thank you? That’s it?”

Staceasa nodded, “That’s it.”

“I.. I can go?”

She nodded again, “You can go. Try to stay out of trouble; it’s a warzone out there.”

The Zabrak nodded quickly and made a run for the exit, still afraid that Staceasa might change her mind and shoot after her anyway.

Torian put a hand on her shoulder, sending a tingle through her, “You never cease to amaze me.”

She turned her head enough so she could look at him, searching his face for what he meant, “I protected an injured woman. That’s not amazing, it’s just the right thing.”

He grinned, “Not many others would have let her go.”

Staceasa blinked and shook her head, “Well, it seemed a little rude to kill her after shooting the Houk to save her.”

Torian only laughed, “I guess you’re right.”

\---

The trek to Zale Barrows was far more complicated than Staceasa was hoping, dragging her right through to the tombs of the Esh-ka before she finally got close enough to the smuggler to confront him. She probably should have killed him for all the trouble he caused, but she chose to take him alive instead. Tormen could kill him if he really needed to. All Staceasa wanted was a hot shower and a nap. And to get off this force-forsaken hunk of rock.

To hell with it, honestly.

She passed the carbonite casing of Barrows off to Lieutenant Horn, who gladly took it and promised he’d deliver it personally to Tormen.

Staceasa was already pulling her armor off in the airlock as Torian was checking his holo messages.

“I’m going to pull rank and call the shower first,” she said authoritatively.

“Okay,” he replied, distracted by whatever he was reading.

She stopped for a second once she noticed his brow was furrowed, “Everything alright?”

He didn’t even look up.

“Torian?” she asked, putting a hand to his arm and pulling his attention from the datapad, “Something wrong?”

He hesitated for a second, but shook his head, “No, not at all. You go shower, I’ll see you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may have noticed that the lovely angelicfangirl's smuggler, Geralt, looks an awful lot like the rumored bounty hunter Staceasa was reading about early in this chapter... Pretending to be a hotshot bounty hunter seemed to be a thing he might do, and I couldn't resist! Thanks, Angel!


	6. Hoth (Round 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for depictions of anxiety and violence

Staceasa ran her hand through her hair a couple times, encouraging it to lay the way she wanted it to, even if it would flop to one side or the other regardless. It was habit, she supposed, to keep pushing it rather than let it be. She also supposed it was habit when she flicked on the intercom and called everyone to the bridge of the Mantis, intending to give a debrief on what happened on Belsavis before they flew off to lay low again.

“Everyone front and center,” she called, hearing her own voice echoing through the cabin.

Inevitably, Mako was first to greet her, as if she’d been waiting just around the corner for Staceasa to make the announcement. Blizz was not too far behind her, moving his short legs as fast as they could go. It was a funny little friendship those two had, but they both loved to tinker with things, and they got each other excited about whatever it was they were doing. Gault sauntered up the stairs, dragging his feet and huffing little whines about something. Staceasa didn’t know if it was about his ex-girlfriend or about the meeting, but it likely didn’t matter. Which left one crew member strangely unaccounted for...

“Torian’s usually punctual,” Staceasa noted, pushing back the worry that crept into her throat and her stomach. 

“Maybe Torian in medbay, get holes fixed?” Blizz offered helpfully, but Staceasa still winced at the image.

“Ah, let the kid have a day off,” Gault said, pausing before finishing, “Better yet, let’s wrap this up so I can get back to mine.”

Mako shook her head, “He told me he got a message from an old associate. They were going to meet in the cantina.”

Staceasa could feel her panic levels rising. He hadn’t said anything to her about meeting anyone, and that worried her. Not because she was jealous or upset that the number of friends he had that she hadn’t met was growing. But something was wrong here. She couldn’t place it or why she knew it, but something was  _ wrong _ .

She looked to Mako for answers, pulling out her holocomm and searching for Torian’s frequency, “Out here? He tell you anything about this ‘old associate’?”

She shrugged sheepishly, “Not really… you know Torian. You think this wasn’t a friendly meeting?”

He wasn’t answering. The holocomm was buzzing and he wasn’t picking up. Why wasn’t he answering? Torian had never ignored her calls before. Even if he was in the middle of something. He’d always take the time to answer her. At least say he’d call her back. _ Why wasn’t he picking up _ ? 

Despite the running panic through her brain, she managed a quiet and calm, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Should we head to the cantina?” Mako suggested, her own voice rising above its normal levels.

Staceasa was already aimed toward the cargo bay - and her pistols and armor - when the ship’s holoterminal rang. She jumped nearly out of her skin when it sounded, but made a dash to accept the call, hoping her fears would be dissuaded. 

It was too much to hope for.

Another bounty hunter’s image appeared before her, arms crossed, clucking his tongue, “You’ve been a busy girl. Too busy. You should spend more time with your loved ones before they’re gone.”

He looked like he was expecting an answer, but Staceasa wasn’t sure she wouldn’t burst into tears, so she stood wide and glared at him, and he continued.

“I’m extending you an invitation. An opportunity to appreciate what you have before you lose it. But if your little  _ boyfriend _ ” - the way he hissed it made her skin crawl - “isn’t marriage material, we understand; there will be plenty of other chances for us to meet. If you want a chance to say goodbye, come to Hoth. We won’t wait long.”

And he was gone. He hadn’t even introduced himself. Not that it mattered.

It was Mako who broke the silence almost immediately, “Torian! We have to save him!”

Staceasa swallowed, willing the lump in her throat further down. She had to be the strong one. She was their  _ leader _ , she couldn’t be weak or emotional. She had to be the voice of reason. Rational. Collected. Not a paranoid, anxious mess.

She pressed her lips together, “They so much as scuff his boots and they’re dead.”

Mako held her hand out as if she was going to hold her friend’s shoulder, but caught herself and withdrew it slowly, wrapping it around herself instead. She spoke gently, “If anyone can get him back safe, it’s you.”

Blizz chirped and hopped, “Boss and Blizz beat up bad people real good!”

Gault just rolled his eyes, “Or at least humiliate them to death…”

“So what are we gonna do?” Mako asked, already reaching for a datapad.

There was only one thing  _ to _ do.

“We get Torian back.” 

Staceasa turned around and walked to the cockpit, taking some solace in the comfort of the controls beneath her shaking fingers. From somewhere behind her, Mako was shouting words of encouragement, but she didn’t process them.

\---

She paced the cockpit relentlessly, hearing the pounding of her boots on the metal floor endlessly, grating ugly noises that her ears protested but her legs just wouldn’t stop. She’d tried to sit, to manually control the Mantis to Hoth, but she was too distracted, too unfocused. Eventually, even the controls of her ship felt uncomfortable under her hands, and she clasped them together, pressing as hard as she could. She rested her forehead against them briefly, but as soon as she started feeling tears behind her eyes, she lurched from her chair and started pacing.

She couldn’t  _ do _ anything, and she hated it. 

She hated it more than she hated how emotional she was about the thought of losing Tor-  _ that Mandalorian _ . And she hated how attached she’d gotten to him. How she let her guard down around him. How she trusted that he, of all people, wouldn’t drop out of her life. 

_ Everyone dies, Staceasa. Some just earlier than others. _

She hated that she wished he would live for a lot longer.

Her stomach let out a growl, knots combining with hunger enough to make her irritated. Staceasa leaned against the galaxy map console and put her hand to her face, stifling a heavy sigh and accompanying sob. 

_ What if they hurt him? What if he was already dead? What if this was all for nothing? What if he’d left of his own volition? What if they abandoned him in a glacier somewhere and left him to die? What if he actually  _ was _ with an associate in the cantina and this was all a rouse? What if- _

“Ceasa?” Mako’s quiet, concerned voice came from the doorway, “Ceasa, are you alright?”

She tried to put on a brave face, to wipe whatever tears were on her face and grin mischievously like she usually did. But she couldn’t even take her hand off, sniffling miserably and shaking her head.

Mako took her response as an invitation, closing the gap between them quickly and hesitantly wrapping her arms around the Chiss. Staceasa could feel her chest tightening and her breaths were shallow and uneven, making her face start to tingle. She was shaking, trying to think, trying to  _ breathe _ , but she  _ couldn’t _ . And Mako’s comforting gesture was starting to feel more like a cage pressing in around her. 

Force, she and Mako had been through so much together, dragged through the bowels of hell and back. She felt so  _ guilty _ that she’d not once touched Mako without panicking. 

But she couldn’t breathe, and she couldn’t,  _ she couldn’t _ handle someone this close to her. 

So she ripped out of Mako’s embrace and raced down the hallway to her quarters, shutting the door behind her and refusing to acknowledge the look of betrayal on Mako’s face.

\---

She’d curled up in front of the toilet in the refresher, switching between looking at her blotchy, purple-y face in the reflection and putting her head against the wall behind her. It had been an hour since she fled from Mako in the cockpit, and she could at least feel her face again. The combination of deep breathing, medication, and waiting it out had finally managed to settle her. At least enough that it didn’t feel like the galaxy was going to end.

She put her head back against the wall with a sigh, wrapping her arms around her knees, and closing her eyes. Mako was probably outside her door, listening for signs of distress; she really needed to apologize to her for pushing out of the hug. But the world was still a little too shaky and unstable for her to feel safe leaving the bathroom.

How long had it been since she’d had a full-on anxiety attack like this? Three years? Four? Not since she had given up hope on finding the Twi’leks again, probably. Certainly not since she’d joined up with Mako and won the Great Hunt. Sure, she’d ensured she wouldn’t panic by shutting herself off physically and emotionally from every person she’d come across, but it was better that way. Even Elsie agreed that she didn’t need to put herself through anxiety attacks if she knew how to avoid them. Of course, Elsie had followed up that comment by calling her a brat and insisting that she couldn’t and _ shouldn’t _ spend her whole life alone. But she wasn’t alone. Even back on Nar Shaddaa she had Ysaine if she needed her. And Elsie. And now she had Mako, Gault, Blizz. And Torian.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, willing another sob back. 

The door to her quarters slid open, and she could hear from where she was that someone was coming in without knocking. But she didn’t even have the energy to fight them, tell them to leave, that she was fine and would be out in a minute. She was surprised to hear a soft rapping at the doorframe of the refresher, and even more so when she opened her eyes to see  _ Gault _ leaning against it.

“You alright in here, kiddo?”

His voice was soft and gentle, which were not two words she had ever associated with him before. Gault Rennow was many things - scoundrel, thief, habitual liar - but  _ gentle _ was not one of them. She must have made some sort of contorted expression because the edges of his lips quirked up in grin.

“Didn’t think ol’ Gault would know a panic attack when he saw one, did you?”

Ah, there he was again.

She smiled and laughed a little, “Didn’t have much reason to think of it before.”

He slid down the wall not altogether gracefully, making sure he didn’t block the doorway or sit too close to her. Staceasa appreciated the gesture.

“Guess you’re right,” he replied once he settled on the floor with her, letting his hands hang over his knees, “Mako says we’re about an hour from Hoth. You gonna be alright? Do you need me to send Blizz and Mako out to retrieve Torian?”

She shook her head, “I’ll be fine.”

He nodded and winked, “Good. I doubt those two would get halfway there without getting distracted anyway. And stars know I can’t keep them in line.”

She laughed a little stronger, slowly feeling more like herself again. Still not willing to leave the safety of the refresher, but she could feel her face again, at least. And from the glimpses she caught of herself in the mirror on the back of the door, her face wasn’t quite so puffy anymore, either.

“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” Gault said, tearing Staceasa out of her thoughts.

“Huh?”

He gestured vaguely with his hands, “Torian. He’s a tough kid. Stupid, but tough.”

She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper, “I know.”

“Mmm, seems to me that girls like you don’t get panic attacks when they know their boyfriend is going to be okay.”

“He’s  _ not _ -”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted with a wave of his hand, “my point still stands.”

She blinked at him and shook her head, “That’s not how it works. They’re not  _ rational _ . Most of me knows that he can handle himself, that he’s fine or at least will be. But it’s the irrational bits that are loudest at the moment.”

Gault nodded, “Anything I can do to shut those bits up?”

Staceasa shook her head, “Not really.”

Mako’s voice interrupted them, muffled from outside, “Boss, we’re landing soon. Do you want to bring us in?”

Staceasa took a breath and pushed herself up from the wall, “Time to go, then.”

“Yup,” Gault replied, grunting as he held out his hands, “Help an old man up, will you?”

She hesitantly took his hand, and hauled him to his feet.

“Let’s go get our boy back, huh?” he said with another wink.

Staceasa nodded, “Let’s get our boy back.”

\---

“I was beginning to think we’d have to finish without you.”

Staceasa took a step further into the cave, weapon drawn but down by her side. Mako glanced at her with concern, but followed suit nonetheless. In front of them were two visible figures: the man who’d called Staceasa a few hours before, and Torian bound to a chair beside him. His face was bruised in places, and he didn’t look up at her when the other man spoke, but she could see his chest heaving. He was  _ alive _ , thank the fucking stars.

She stared hard at the bounty hunter, clutching her pistols even tighter, “You could’ve masterbated just fine without me here to witness the finale.”

He blushed bright red, mouth agape for a few seconds before his embarrassment turned into anger and he pulled his pistol and pressed it to Torian’s temple, “Why don’t you come a little closer and say that to my face?”

Only then did Torian finally look up, wriggling in his bonds, crying out, “Ambush, run!”

At that moment, seven other bounty hunters popped out of hiding places around them, guns trained on Staceasa and Mako. The other bounty hunter only laughed, moving his blaster from Torian’s head about an inch or so, “You aren’t saying anything your friend doesn’t already know. You know, Grand Champion, you’ve got talent. The Overseers would have scouted you eventually. We could have helped you make a real mark on the galaxy. Now you’ll have to settle for your gaudy title and the price on your head.”

Staceasa didn’t budge, didn’t even blink, “I was never in this for the money or making a ‘mark’. You know  _ nothing _ about me.”

“Tch. Just what I’d expect from Mandalorian scum.”

Her eyes flared a richer crimson, and her hands clutched her guns even tighter. He was goading her into starting a fight, and she knew it. She knew she was doing exactly what he wanted her to do. She also knew she could take out everyone in that room before they got a shot off. Mako saw the look in her eye and flicked on an energy shield.

She’d already been assessing her options; she saw the other bounty hunters as soon as she stepped up into the light and had been planning her attack even while she talked to the gross-looking leader of the gang. But as soon as he called her Mandalorian scum, he’d made the decision for her.

In quick succession, Staceasa fired with both blasters at each of the bounty hunters, starting in the middle, taking out the leader by the knee. He crumpled to the floor with a pathetic wail, flinging his own blasters as he went. The others she made less of a show with, keeping an eye on their movements in her periphery, and aiming for the kill. Only one of them was smart enough to dive for cover as soon as her blasters went up, and Mako quickly dispatched him with a shot of her own. The rest went down as she swept around the room, her anger focusing her aim.

Her blasters were smoking when she lowered them, but she was surprisingly composed and calm for having just shot up a cave’s worth of bounty hunters. Her breaths were heavy, but even. Her hands were steady, sliding the blasters into their holsters swiftly and gently. It wasn’t until she looked to Torian again that her stomach knotted and her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. His head was bowed away from the artificial lights and his shoulders shook, but he was grinning. She didn’t even think, didn’t even doubt herself when she leaped for him, throwing her arms around him.

He nuzzled into her neck and mumbled, “That’s my girl.”

She blushed as her heart fluttered far too noticeably in her chest - she was sure he must have felt it against his own chest. She squeezed him harder, not having the right words to say. After all the ways she’d imagined their reunion going, she was grateful this was the actual conclusion.

Mako must have untied him because she felt his arms around her, pulling her in closer. She felt his whole body shivering now, as close as she was. He breathed deeply, his face still buried where her shoulder met her neck, as if he needed to take her all in. Like they’d been separated for months rather than hours.

Or maybe he just wanted her warmth, like the last time they were on Hoth.

Oh, fuck, he didn’t even have a coat this time, no wonder he was shaking-

“I owe you,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, “Again. My turn to be bait, I guess.”

She pulled back enough to see his face, memorizing the places of the bruises and looking into his eyes again, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

He shook his head a little as if a larger movement would hurt him, “Hit my head, and I’m freezing, but otherwise I’m alright.”

Mako’s blaster clicked as she readied it, drawing their attentions back to her, “Hey, one of these creeps is still kicking!”

The bounty hunter Staceasa had shot in the knee was still writhing on the ground, but evidently regained enough brainpower to stutter out an incredulous exclamation, “H-how? This should have been total overkill!”

Staceasa slowly rose from her position and stood over him, her voice even and low, “Despite what you believe, the Great Hunt isn’t a joke. There’s a reason Mandalore made me his champion.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Torian get to his feet, a little wobbly but at least mostly steady. He moved beside her, but looked at her rather than the bounty hunter who had kidnapped him.

The other hunter was too busy groveling and begging to notice, “If this couldn’t kill you, I don’t know what would. I want out. I don’t care how good the money is, it’s not worth it.”

“You’re begging the wrong person,” Staceasa replied, handing her pistol to the Mandalorian beside her, “It’s your call.”

“Torian, he’s not worth it,” Mako reasoned quietly.

Torian looked at the blaster carefully, examining it as if he was weighing his options. In the end he held it by the barrel and swung the butt at the Overseer, knocking him out cold. But he looked a little woozy and the shiver returned to his shoulders. As he handed the gun back to the Chiss, she took his hand and looked into his eyes again, searching for any sign that he wasn’t okay. They were as clear, bright, and blue as ever, but they were pained, his brows pinched together in the middle. He gripped her hand tightly, like he was using her as a balance.

She didn’t look away when she gave an order to the slicer, “Mako, get back and pull some data on our next target.”

“Got it,” she replied, “Be careful, you two.”

As soon as Mako was out of sight, Torian nearly collapsed in Staceasa’s arms, leaning into her so much that she almost fell over. He fumbled through some sort of apology, but all Staceasa could think about was how she needed to give him her coat. She eased him back into the chair in the middle of the space, and in one motion slid her heavy coat off her shoulders and onto his. It didn’t quite fit him, but it was big enough to keep him covered, at least. The cold cut through her, but she didn’t even care. Torian was  _ alive _ and she had to keep him that way. She hugged him again, hoping their combined warmth would be enough for both of them. Her brain wasn’t even protesting at how much she was touching him, which she decided she didn’t want to think about too much.

“Staceasa,” he mumbled in her ear, “I-”

She shushed him, “ _ Udesiir _ . Let’s get you home and warm again.”

He nodded, holding her tightly against him. 

\---

At some point, Staceasa had decided that they really needed to get back to the ship, and had coaxed Torian to sit behind her on the speeder. His brow was so furrowed that she wasn’t entirely sure he could actually see, and his shoulders were still shaking, but she couldn’t do anything more for him out in the Hoth wastelands. She slid on the bike in front of him and he immediately wrapped his arms around her torso and buried his face in her back between her shoulders. He still had her coat around his shoulders, and she was sure she’d probably wish she had that back at some point, but she’d spent much of her childhood playing in the Csilla wastelands wearing less than she was now. She was still Chiss, at least biologically, and she could handle the cold whipping at her face for awhile. Especially with the warm body of Torian pressing against her back.

She shivered involuntarily when he squeezed her.

They sped over the makeshift trails, zigzagging their way around glaciers and enemy camps - even Imperial camps, if she was honest. The Chiss base was approaching, and Staceasa steeled herself again. She had no intention of stopping there, but the path took them right in front of the entrance to the base. The same stares met them as she flew past, and her stomach still dropped when she caught sight of some of their faces. The same displeased, judgemental, unforgiving stares that she’d gotten from Chiss for a decade. 

Torian seemed to sense her discomfort and adjusted his arms around her. She replied by taking one hand off the steering bars and placing it over his.

Fortunately, the rest of the trip back to the shuttle was relatively unexciting, even if she could feel Torian’s strength fading as she took on more and more of his weight when they made their way through Dorn Base. She felt herself starting to panic again, but Torian smiled at her, reassured her silently, and she felt her heartbeat settle.  

Relief spread through her when they finally stepped back onto the Mantis; Mako had turned the heat up a few degrees, which she was eternally grateful for. She started for the medbay, but could hear uncomfortable sobs from inside - Mako leaned over the railing from above and shrugged. Staceasa made a mental note to check on Gault later. 

She looked to Torian, “How do you feel about stairs?”

He shrugged.

It took considerable effort for Staceasa to drag both of them up the stairs to the common area that separated the cockpit from her personal quarters, but through sheer willpower and drawing on whatever adrenaline was left in her system, she did. She felt a twinge in her head as she turned and brought Torian into her quarters, but she ignored it. He at least deserved an actual bed to sleep on. 

Mako had already placed half a dozen blankets on her bed, stacked neatly at the foot. Staceasa slowly untangled herself from Torian and eased him to sit before grabbing one and wrapping it around him. 

He shut his eyes and leaned against her, “ _ Vor entye _ , Ceasa.”

She took his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers together. 

\---

Torian mostly slept for the next few days. Gault had checked him over - he seemed miraculously fine after the sobbing incident - and announced that Torian had a concussion but was otherwise relatively healthy. He made the executive decision to take some time off and let everyone recover for the next week before they tried anything else “incredibly stupid and poorly thought out”. Nobody complained about that idea. So Staceasa had grabbed a pillow from her bed and camped out on one of the couches, letting Torian have the bed to himself. She went in every once in awhile to check in on him, and make sure he ate something, but she was still hesitant to spend more time that close to him. 

So she sat out on the couch with a datapad, reading up on the newest hyperspace research. Mako and Gault had gone out to refuel the Mantis, and Bliss was tinkering away in the engine room when Torian finally emerged, dressed in a sweatshirt and lounge pants, his hair lopsided and sticking out. He stretched his arms above his head, pulling his shirt up enough to reveal a bit of pale pink skin; Staceasa caught a glimpse of him and lurched up to a sitting position.

“How’s your head?” she asked as he sat perpendicular to her, like always.

“Better.”

His hand reached for hers and she let him take it, moving so she could drape her legs over his where they sat. She looked back down at the datapad, trying to find her place again, but Torian kept  _ looking _ at her with those big blue eyes. It would be a crime not to meet them, so she did. She looked at him curiously, but didn’t say anything aloud. 

Just as it looked like he might open his mouth, there was a loud clanking noise from the entrance to the ship as Mako and Gault returned.

“We’re hooooome!” Gault announced.

Torian winced a little and she squeezed his hand.

Mako came flying up the stairs like she always did, but stopped in her tracks when she saw the two of them on the couch. 

She smirked a little, “Nice to see you, Torian. She taking good care of you?”

Torian nodded once, “Always.”

\---

“Hey, look who’s up,” Staceasa commented as she and Gault hauled in supplies. They’d stopped at a tiny Mandalorian-controlled station somewhere in the Outer Rim while they were between things, gathering food and medical supplies and whatever else they needed.

Torian had evidently made his way to the cargo bay while they were out, standing among the equipment looking a little…  _ nervous _ ? 

He gave a tentative smile, “Need any help?”

She shook her head as she walked by, “Nah, we’ve got it. Thanks, though.”

Gault grunted as he entered the ship with a box in his arms, “Speak for yourself. I could use the help.”

The Devaronian practically dumped his crate into the arms of the Mandalorian before running back out into the airlock to grab another load. Torian grunted with the weight of it, but managed to haul it to where Staceasa was storing away everything in the next room.

He set the crate down gently on the floor beside Staceasa and she smiled at him as she put the contents away in various cupboards and hidden compartments. He knelt beside her, handing her items as they unpacked them all. Gault came in with the last of the boxes and dropped it unceremoniously before announcing he was going to do some “research”. Staceasa didn’t even want to know.

Which left the Chiss and the Mandalorian in the storage room alone.

Staceasa felt a shiver run up her arm when their hands touched as Torian passed her a canister of food.

“How are you feeling?” she asked him, turning her back to him as she put the canister as far back in the compartment as she could.

“No complaints,” he replied quietly, “Just about ready to get back out there with you.”

She laughed as she turned and took another canister from him, “I’m not sure  _ I’m _ ready to get back out there yet.”

“I’m surprised Darth Tormen hasn’t called yet,” he mused with a grin.

“Don’t jinx it,” Staceasa whispered, “He knows when we talk about him.”

They laughed for a few moments, but soon the room was quiet again as they finished putting away the rest of the supplies. It wasn’t necessarily unusual for Staceasa and Torian to be quiet around each other, but there was a tension in the air that wasn’t usually there. Usually they were relaxed, comfortable, but something about Torian was off.

He stood after he handed her the last of the supplies and offered her his hands when she turned back around to him. She took his hands without hesitation - and wasn’t  _ that _ a novelty - and used his weight as a balance as she hauled herself up from the floor. 

She went to take her hands out of his, but Torian squeezed them in his own and held on. Not that she would complain about that, but something was definitely up.

“Torian?” she asked softly, “Is something wrong?”

He hesitated and she squeezed his hands, urging him gently.

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted.

Staceasa froze. 

Torian’s confession rippled through her, echoing through her bones. She shivered, feeling the goosebumps prickling on her skin and her heart racing in her chest. She couldn’t even begin to process the emotions coursing through her. 

He loved her.

She hadn’t loved anyone in a dozen years, at least. She hesitated to make friends, even. She was afraid to trust anyone with any part of her. Especially her heart. She’d spent so long building walls so she wouldn’t get hurt that she just assumed she wouldn’t ever be capable of loving another person. Romantically or otherwise. Sure, she’d trust her life to Mako or Gault or Ysaine or a handful of others, but she never  _ loved _ them.

But Torian was different.

He could get close without invading her space. He alone could comfort her with a touch. He fought beside her as if that was the only place he wanted to be. He made her laugh and he made her so damn  _ comfortable _ . She trusted him with parts of her most people didn’t even know about. And she was afraid to - afraid of how it could all come crashing around her - but she  _ loved _ him. She  _ loved  _ this stupid adorable Mandalorian more than she could remember loving anyone else.

She hoped Stanellir would be proud of her for realizing that.

Torian squeezed her hands, bringing her back to reality, and she looked up into his pale eyes, watching the panic creep into his face. She wasn’t going to let fear ruin this for her.

So she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face where his neck and shoulder met, squeezing him as tight as she could. She was overwhelmed and she was afraid and she was emotional, but she was  _ safe _ and she was  _ happy _ with Torian. The tension in his muscles had relaxed a bit as she hugged him, but it wasn’t until she spoke that his anxiety fully bled out of him.

“I love you, too, Torian,” she said quietly.

He finally let out the breath he was holding and squeezed.

“Mandalore is your clan leader,” he said after a quiet moment, “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Staceasa let go of him and settled back on her heels, letting her hands rest on his chest.

“Don’t worry about that,” she replied, “I  _ love  _ you, Torian. We can figure out the rest when we get there.”

Seemingly without her permission, her hands gripped his shirt. She pulled his face to hers and pressed her lips to his. His whole body quivered in surprise when she did it, and it took him a couple seconds to gain enough brainpower to kiss her in return, but when he did, she thought she might just melt on the spot. He was soft and gentle, taking his time to explore her lips and her mouth with his own. He held her hips and pulled her in closer, pressing his thumbs into her waist. There was no going back now; Staceasa was awfully, terribly, hopelessly in love with him.

“No!” came an abrupt voice from the intercom.

Staceasa nearly jumped out of her skin at the loud interruption, pulling out of the kiss jerkily. But she still had her hands in Torian’s shirt.

“Come on, Gault, time to pay up,” Mako’s laughter filtered through the speaker.

“Why would she  _ kiss _ him!?” the Devaronian’s voice returned, and the way it kept cutting in and out made it sound like he must have been pacing in frustration. 

Torian’s face turned bright red when he realized Mako and Gault had witnessed the whole thing. Staceasa laughed and kissed him again before resting her forehead against his, letting her hands fall into his.

“I guess that saves us the trouble of telling them,” Staceasa said with a grin, rubbing her nose gently against Torian’s.

Evidently, she said it loud enough for the other two to hear them, if Mako’s cry of “Oh,  _ fuck _ !” before slamming off the speaker was any indication. Her laughter still filtered down from the cockpit, though.

Torian smiled and squeezed Staceasa’s hands, running his thumbs over hers.

“ _ Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum _ ,” he said, “For however long forever ends up being, I’m yours, Staceasa.”

She replied by kissing him again, “I love you, Torian.”


	7. Nar Shaddaa (Round 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mildly nsfw (only at the beginning)

His hands ran up her back under her shirt, sending a shiver down her back. She cupped the nape of his neck in her hand and kissed him fiercely, her heart pounding so loud she thought it might thump right out of her chest. There was a knot growing in her stomach, but she pushed it aside, determined to actually enjoy herself for once in her fucking life. But as Torian pulled her against him tightly, she couldn’t help it as her muscles tensed and her hand flew to his to push it off her hip.

He immediately pulled back, “What’s wrong,  _ cyare _ ? Am I hurting you?”

Oh, the way he called her beloved wanted to make her melt into putty, but the nervous breakdown that was starting to build in her held her back. Her hands were starting to shake and she pressed them hard against his arms to keep them still. There were sirens going off in her head, telling her to pull back, to run, to keep her distance. She’d already gotten too close with this crew, and it was only a matter of time before they would leave her. Torian included. Her heart ached for closeness, but her head wanted to implode at the thought. Her breaths were ragged and uneven as she desperately clung to a sense of calm.

“Ceasa?” he asked again.

“I…I don’t know if I can do this, Torian,” she confessed quietly, bowing her head to avoid eye contact.

He moved his hand to her cheek and lifted her head gently, looking at her with those big blue eyes that she’d fallen so hopelessly in love with. 

He kissed her softly, whispering, “Okay. Do you need some space?”

She nodded but held his hand tightly as they sat up opposite each other on the bed. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

He smiled, “You have nothing to apologize for. There’s no need to do anything until we’re both ready.”

“I don’t want to hold us back,” she argued pitifully.

He just shook his head and squeezed her hand in his, “Go as slow as you need, Ceasa. So long as I’m with you, I’m happy.”

Staceasa threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder, “Thank you, Torian.”

“ _ Ba'gedet'ye, cyare _ ,” he replied, pressing a kiss against her head.

\---

“Caliah, where’s Elsie?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

“Fuck f’I know,” he replied in a drunken slur, “prob’ly in th’office, that’s where she always is.”

Staceasa grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him to his feet, “Where’s the office,  _ di’kut _ ? We’re standing where her office used to be, and  _ clearly _ it’s not here.”

Caliah looked around bewildered, “Oh would y’look at tha’, s’not.”

“Could jog his memory for you,” Torian offered with a mischievous grin.

Staceasa shook her head, but hoped he could see she was amused, “He’s not worth the effort.” She threw him to the ground again and stepped over his body.

“You’re looking for Doctor Cordovich?” a deep voice rasped from beside them.

Staceasa nodded, squinting in the murky dusk to determine who was there, “You’re a real mind-reader, aren’t you?”

The voice let out a cold chuckle, “You’ve been off-planet a long time if you’re coming back to this place to find her.”

“So you’ve noticed. Very astute,” she snarked, hand on her blaster, “Are you gonna stand there all shadowy and smug or are you gonna tell me where she’s at?”

A Houk moved from the shadows and into her line of sight, his beady eyes trained on her. He moved with difficulty, as if he’d had an injury to one of his legs that wasn’t properly cared for at some point. 

“I’ve waited years for this,” he snarled, moving to pull out a blaster, “I’m gonna savor killing you, you punk-ass kid.”

“You’re the idiot who tried to fight Izzy, and I shot in the knee,” Staceasa replied with a laugh, shaking her head, “You’re going to be awfully disappointed.”

“Revenge will be sweet.”

“That was like five years ago, dumbass! Haven’t you had anything better to do than stew?”

He hobbled forward, a little unbalanced. This wasn’t even going to be fun.

“Five years of unemployment. Five years of anguish. All thanks to you.”

Torian lunged forward and hit the Houk in his injured knee with his polesaber, “How about you put down the gun and be nice to the lady? All we want are directions.”

With a hard thud, the Houk fell to a knee, blaster still in hand.

Staceasa knelt in front of him, blaster out, but resting gently on her thigh, “Would you like to try again?”

The Houk made a displeased noise, but raised his blaster to aim for Staceasa; she shot his shoulder and he cried out in an ugly guttural howl. Caliah rolled over and groaned with him, as if in sympathy.

“Last chance, ugly,” Staceasa warned quietly, and she thought she could see Torian shiver as the she said it.

The Houk glared at her for a moment, but she met his gaze just as strongly, and eventually he hung his head, “She’s got a full hospital now, it floats around the Red Light Sector most of the time.”

“Thank you,” she replied evenly, standing and looking over to Torian who took the cue and swung once at the Houk, knocking him out cold.

“You ruin all the fun,” Caliah bemoaned, still rolling around on the ground.

“Shut up, Caliah. Go home.”

He pushed himself up and took a couple wobbly steps before crashing into Staceasa.

“Wha’ever you say,” he slurred.

Staceasa slung his arm around her shoulder, “Alright, let’s get you to Elsie. Torian?”

Torian already had the huge Houk balanced on his shoulders, “Ready.”

“I can help with that, you know,” she commented, amused.

Torian grunted as he shifted the weight of the mercenary, “Nah, I got it. He’s just dead weight. Besides, I have to prove to you sometime how strong I am.”

She laughed, reaching up and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I’m very aware of how strong you are,  _ cyare _ .”

He blushed and smiled at her.

“Hey, h’come ya never kissed me?” Caliah whined, leaning against Staceasa with more of his weight.

“Because you’re gay, Cal.”

He took a long blink and nodded, “Oh, yeah...”

The speeder wasn’t far, fortunately, and the Houk had given them enough directions that the droid programming the flight could figure out their destination. They threw Caliah - who had passed out entirely by this point - and the Houk in the backseat before Staceasa took the driver’s seat, Torian climbing in beside her.

Navigating the lanes of Nar Shaddaa was relatively easy for Staceasa, allowing her instincts to take over as she followed the route programmed by the service droid. Traffic was never normal enough for her to feel safe allowing the autopilot to engage, so she guided the speeder up and around the skyscrapers, climbing higher and higher to the Red Light District. Torian looked out off the side of the speeder as they rose, immediately regretting the decision as he saw the dizzying heights they were reaching. Staceasa put a hand on his thigh, drawing his attention back to her.

She stole a glance over to him, looking long enough to see him swallow nervously and shut his eyes.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never been to Nar Shaddaa,” she prodded gently.

He didn’t open his eyes, but he did put his hand on hers as he replied, “I still can’t believe you lived here for twelve years.”

She leveled the speeder as they neared their destination, and even from a distance, it was easy to spot the hospital dominating the skyline a click in front of them. It was one of those floating buildings, unattached to the moon’s surface or any of the other buildings. It wasn’t the biggest floating building Staceasa had seen, but Elsie clearly had seen the benefit of a wealthy patron.

They pulled into the parking lot with the speeder, coming to a stop gently and gracefully.

“You can open your eyes now, Torian,” she teased.

He groaned in feigned annoyance, but followed her out of the speeder, hauling their patients up into the hospital proper.

The Nautolan at the front desk glanced at them apathetically, slapping a datapad on the counter, “If you could fill out this form, someone will assist you momentarily.”

She wasn’t one of the receptionists Staceasa knew from her days as a courier for Elsie - there were probably dozens of people in this building that she wouldn’t recognize - so she nodded and took the datapad back to the waiting area. Torian placed the Houk as gracefully as he could in a seat, but the lumbering alien kept sliding down the chair. Caliah was at least somewhat conscious again, but he, too, refused to sit, insisting on laying across four chairs. Fortunately, it seemed to be a relatively quiet day for them, only a couple other patrons hanging around the area, whispering quietly to each other.

Torian eventually gave up on the Houk and let him slump to the floor before joining Staceasa on the other side of the room. He looked over her shoulder to the datapad and snorted.

“You gave his name as ‘Ugly’?”

Staceasa shrugged, “It seemed appropriate.”

Torian glanced back to the Houk before nodding, “He is an ugly  _ chak’aar _ . You said earlier that you shot him in the knee for picking a fight with someone?”

“Yeah,” she replied, not looking up from the datapad as she continued to fill out the forms, “that’s how I met Ysaine Pierce; he tried to take her out in the middle of a bar, but I shot him first. I never did figure out why he wanted to kill her.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a shot to get him in the knee in a cantina in the middle of a bar fight,” Torian commented, attempting to hide the awe in his voice without any success whatsoever.

“Miss Nlusta, you are  _ late _ ,” a voice called from the other end of the room.

Staceasa recognized the voice and grinned as she caught sight of the elderly human woman. Doctor Elspeth Cordovich was not a physically dominating woman: she was short, her hair was gray, and her face wrinkled. But make no mistake, this hospital was  _ hers _ and she was in charge, and anyone who didn’t play nice would be unceremoniously thrown to the curb. Some things never changed.

“Doctor Cordovich,” she replied with a grin, putting the datapad down on the chair and taking long strides across the room to stand in front of her mentor.

Elsie scolded her, but was grinning widely, “I expressly remember telling you that I expected to see you again running my errands after the Great Hunt. It’s been nearly two years since then.”

“Apologies, ma’am,” Staceasa replied with a bow.

“Alright, just this once, I’ll let it slide,” Elsie replied with a wink, “Now, indulge an old woman and give her a hug.”

Her embrace was tighter than Staceasa expected, betraying the years Elsie had spent worrying about her young Chiss courier. 

“It’s good to see you,” Staceasa said quietly into her shoulder.

“Same to you, Staceasa.”

Caliah grumbled, and Elsie peeked around Staceasa to the source of the noise.

She sighed, “I see you’ve found our favorite Zeltron.”

“Ah, yeah, I was looking for your office,” Staceasa explained sheepishly, “and he was the only one there. Well, and the Houk.”

Elsie pulled away from her and knelt beside the Houk on the floor, “I suppose the shoulder wound is your doing?”

Staceasa nodded, not bothering to explain further. Elsie wouldn’t have wanted to hear it anyway.

She looked over to Torian and beckoned him with a finger, “Young man, do me a favor and bring this lout with us to the back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied as he leaped to his feet and scooped up the Houk with a grunt.

Elsie spun on her heel and strode out of the room into one of the nearby examination rooms with Staceasa and Torian behind her.

“Just put him down here,” she ordered, pointing to the examination table as she pulled on a couple pairs of gloves and grabbed a few implements. 

Elsie worked quickly and quietly on the Houk while Staceasa and Torian stood together in the far corner of the room, doing as best they could to get out of the way. Staceasa had never actually worked in the hospital before, always running out for supplies or to deliver medications to patients or to bring patients into the clinic; Elsie had offered plenty of times to teach her how to treat wounds and illnesses, but even thinking about the possibility of touching and working with sick people sent Staceasa into a panic. So she stuck to deliveries. As a result, however, she had no idea how to best help Elsie in this moment. It didn’t seem to bother Elsie, though.

“I assume you aren’t here just to catch up and visit,” she stated even as she was poking and prodding the Houk.

Staceasa laughed nervously, “What? I can’t just catch up and visit?”

“Of course you can,” Elsie replied, her tone getting colder, “but if you were going to do that, you would have done so a year ago. What do you need, Staceasa?”

She sighed and fidgeted nervously with her fingers, “The Republic has put me on their most wanted list. The Empire has burned nearly every bridge between us. Even the Hutts have put out bounties on me.” She took a deep breath, and Elsie didn’t interrupt, “I need a place to lay low for a few days.”

“You’re going to need more than a few days if you’ve got a target that big on your back, Miss Nlusta,” she replied flatly.

“I’m working on that,” Staceasa explained, “but I need a couple days to figure out what’s next. And I can’t risk staying in orbit on my ship.”

Elsie paused for a moment and then nodded slowly, “How many of you are there?”

“Five.”

She turned around and took off her gloves, throwing them in the disposal and crossing her arms over her chest, “I think I can arrange to clear out a couple rooms for you. This isn’t a vacation, though; you’re working for rent.”

“Anything you need, Doctor Cordovich,” Staceasa replied, relief spreading through her. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“As it so happens, I have need of a courier,” Elsie said, the corners of her mouth quirking up in a grin, her eyes bright and a little mischievous.

Staceasa felt her face flush, “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Elsie waved her hand in dismissal, “Go get the rest of your crew first. I’ll have one of my staff clear a space for you to stay.”

\---

“Oh my, is that little Mako coming back to my hospital? Without a scratch on her?” Elsie exclaimed when she caught sight of the slicer carrying in a box of equipment.

Mako grinned from ear to ear and stopped in her tracks, “Sure is!”

Gault grunted as he ran into her, “Hey!”

“Sorry!”

Staceasa shook her head as she and Torian brought in the last of their belongings. There wasn’t much that was absolutely necessary, but she didn’t want to take any chances of someone else finding the Mantis and nabbing whatever they could. Considering they purposefully left the Mantis in a relatively accessible (but not  _ too  _ accessible) place, the likelihood of that happening was relatively high. They’d hooked up extra security cameras and Mako was planning on spending the next few days keeping an eye out for any intruders.

“Miss Nlusta, if you’re all set up, come with me to my office. I have a task for you,” Elsie ordered as she made her way down the hallway around them.

“Yes, ma’am,” Staceasa replied, setting down her cargo and jogging to catch up to the elderly doctor.

Her office was just as neatly cluttered as always; everything had a place and Elsie could find anything with pinpoint accuracy, but the shelves and tabletops were overflowing with datapads and supplies with only a single-person-wide pathway from the door to her desk. She took a box filled with smaller boxes off the top of one of the piles and handed it to Staceasa.

“I want you to deliver these to patients in the Duros Sector,” she said flatly, “I’ve already sent the coordinates to you, but I doubt you’ll have any trouble finding them.”

Staceasa nodded, “I’ll do that now, then.”

There was a glint in Elsie’s eye when she replied, “Bring that nice Mandalorian boy with you.”

The Chiss raised an eyebrow, “I am capable of fending for myself.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you weren’t,” she replied with a wink, “Now go. I’m not getting any younger.”

Staceasa blinked slowly on her way out the door.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady!” Elsie called behind her, and Staceasa stifled a giggle with her hand.

\---

The roads through the Duros Sector were familiar enough for her; she’d spent pretty much her whole life on Nar Shaddaa in there with the millions of other refugees who fled to the moon but had no way of settling in a safer district. Even once she started bounty hunting and moving around more, the Duros Sector was always the place she returned to, regardless of the fact that she didn’t have stable roof over her head there. Torian was still taking the whole sector in, looking around with his eyes wide as Staceasa piloted them through various neighborhoods.

She pulled up in front of an unassuming durasteel building with six windows spaced evenly along the front, and a heavily reinforced door square in the middle of it. It seemed an odd place to deliver medicine, but then again, Elsie cared for some odd people. Staceasa and Torian climbed out of the speeder and went up to the door together.

Just as she put out a fist to knock, the door swung open, and a green-skinned Twi’lek stood before them, holding a long pole in one hand and grinning widely. Her eyes were almost unnaturally pale, her gaze never quite landing on Staceasa and Torian, and she kept tapping her bare feet on the floor. She was considerably older than Staceasa, but she was definitely younger than Elsie, the wrinkles around her face noticeable but not prominent.

“Nlusta’ceasa’lirnimu,” she said, keeping the door open only halfway, “I would recognize you anywhere.”

“Alema’tann?” Staceasa replied, taken aback.

She nodded and raised one of her tattooed eyebrows, “I see you haven’t followed me into blindness.”

“Did she just make a pun about being blind?” Torian whispered beside her.

Alema’tann only laughed warmly. “If I had known you were bringing family, I would have prepared a better entrance.”

Staceasa blushed, much to the amusement of Alema’tann - who, despite not being able to see anything, had a tremendously accurate ability to determine her surroundings.

“I’m Alema’tann,” she said, holding out her hand to Torian, “one of the priestesses who runs the school and orphanage here. Staceasa has been running errands for us since she was a kid and we worked out of a shack.”

He took her hand and shook it, “Torian Cadera. Pleasure to meet you.”

The Twi’lek ushered them both inside, giving them the tour. Another priestess took the box of medicine from Staceasa and hurried down the hallway.

“Most of the children here have escaped from slavery,” she commented as they passed classrooms and a cafeteria, “Lots of Twi’leks, Torgrutas, other alien species. Kids from across the galaxy with no one to go home to end up here. It would dishonor the Goddess if we did not care for her children, so we house them, feed them, educate them, heal them when we can.”

“And you get Elsie when you can’t heal them,” Staceasa interjected.

Alema’tann chuckled and directed them into a small room with half a dozen chairs scattered around it, “As I recall,  _ you _ were healed in our sanctuary once or twice.”

“Your ‘sanctuary’ was a pile of rocks at the time,” Staceasa replied tersely, but the priestess ignored her.

“She was a disaster of a child,” she said to Torian, who grinned, “she would deliver medicine and supplies to us in her beat up speeder with injuries from only the Goddess knows where. A broken arm, twisted ankles, split lips, scrapes and bruises, you name it.”

Staceasa crossed her arms and frowned.

Alema’tann’s expression softened after a moment, and she started to rub her walking stick in between her palms, “That being said, we were very grateful for Staceasa in our early days. Without her assistance, we never would have been able to grow to what we are now. You may not have realized it at the time, Staceasa, but you were a part of our family whether you worshipped the Goddess or not.”

The Chiss swallowed and nodded, noticing Torian glance at her softly even though she was staring at her feet.

Fortunately, Alema’tann started leading them back out to the front door. It was louder than before, with footsteps echoing through the halls and voices carrying through the building. They waded through dozens of children who opened a pathway for Alema’tann and her walking stick. Once they were safely outside with the door shut behind them, the Twi’lek put her hand on Staceasa’s shoulder hesitantly.

“Thank you for the delivery. I’m sure you aren’t staying on Nar Shaddaa, but you are always welcome here if you come this way again. You, too, Torian.”

He nodded politely, “Thank you.”

Alema’tann turned to Staceasa and wrapped her arms around her, “Take care of yourself,  _ sama _ . May you find your place in the galaxy.”

Staceasa hugged her tighter in response, “Thank you,  _ haoy _ . It was good to see you again.”

“ _ Ryma gesu’tuno allesh _ .”

“ _ Ryma gesu’tuno allesh _ , Alema.”

\---

The other deliveries were similar, taking Staceasa and Torian along the paths of Staceasa’s past. They stopped at libraries, at cantinas, at other schools, places she spent her time and evidently made an impression on the people there. She showed Torian her favorite nooks and crannies in the city, stopping in a few of them to kiss him. They took a lunch break at the cantina where Staceasa met Ysaine, found the terminal where the bounties were put up, explored the ruins of an old slaver operation building. Staceasa even found herself enjoying it, despite the fact that she was opening up about a lot of her past very quickly. 

It wasn’t until she actually pulled up to the front door of the final address that Elsie gave her that she realized just where the good doctor had sent her.

She stood rigid in front of the apartment, watching the same damn lantern blink like it always did. Ten damn years since she’d lived in that apartment and no one had bothered to fix the fucking light.

Her face must have gone blank because Torian put a hand tentatively between her shoulders.

“Staceasa? Everything alright?”

She still shivered a little when he touched her, but he didn’t pull back. When she didn’t reply, he moved his hand to her shoulder and rubbed it gently, allowing her space while still letting her know she wasn’t alone. 

But she certainly felt alone.

The overwhelming weight of guilt and grief came crashing down on her all at once, and she crumpled to the ground, shaking and sobbing. Torian knelt beside her, rubbing his hand up and down her back silently, putting the other in front of her if she wanted to take it. Instead of his hand, though, Staceasa reached for his chest, burying herself as far as she could into his jacket and suddenly feeling very grateful that he hadn’t felt the need the wear his armor. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head before resting his forehead against hers.

“ _ Udesiir, cyare _ ,” he whispered.

Her voice hitched in her throat and what was meant to be a thanks came out as string of garbled noises, which made Torian chuckle quietly but held her tighter. The sound of his laughter reverberated through her, gently calming the whirlwind in her head. 

“Thank you, Torian,” she murmured, reaching around him again and pressing the side of her face against his.

He squeezed her and made a little noise when her breaths brushed against his ears. She replied by kissing him.

Torian rubbed his nose against hers and took her hands in his, “You’re never alone, Staceasa, okay? I’ll always be here.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as he said it, but she pushed down the lump in her throat, “Promise?”

“Promise,” he replied, kissing her again.

At that moment, the door to the house flung open and a young Chiss woman - probably only a couple years older than Staceasa - dashed out the door, fumbling and crying in Cheunh, running to them. Torian immediately stood and put himself between the two Chiss defensively, putting his hand behind him to gauge where Staceasa was. She followed him up from the ground, trying to catch up to what the woman was saying. It had been a long time since she’d conversed in Cheunh and she was a little rusty - even the Chiss on Hoth had spoken Basic, entrenched in the Empire as they were. The woman was hysterical, sobbing and wailing about too many things at once.

Staceasa hesitantly moved out from beside Torian and offered her hand to the Chiss woman, keeping her other hand in Torian’s. The Chiss woman took it without a second thought, gripping onto her tightly.

It was so strange to see a Chiss so publically emotional. Of course, it was also strange to see another Chiss living in her old house.

She looked at the woman again, noting the wrinkles at the corners of her face and the purple tint in her eyes. Her skin was paler than Staceasa’s, and her hair was dark blue streaked with silver, falling in curls around her shoulders.

“ _ K'ir vah’tisut Basic _ ?” Staceasa stumbled through the words, hoping she didn’t sound like an infant trying to get her tongue around them.

The woman just looked at her and cried again, bringing Staceasa’s hand to her face. Staceasa looked to Torian, and he was just as confused as she was. Probably more so. But he did seem convinced the woman wasn’t going to harm them, moving enough that he could reach into the speeder behind them and grab the small box that Elsie had given them.

He handed it to the Chiss woman hesitantly. She stopped crying long enough to take the box and open it, examining its contents with wide eyes. When she looked up again, she broke out into more tears, throwing her arms around Staceasa and Torian, babbling Cheunh thank yous. Only then did Staceasa look back towards the small house, seeing a small child half-hiding behind the door. Her feet were bare, little blue toes wiggling nervously, hands gripping the edge of the door, one maroon eye trained on the scene unfolding in the street. She looked to be about the age Staceasa had been when her family had moved to Nar Shaddaa, no more than seven or eight years old, and the spitting image of the woman before them. She was thin and pale, looking like her grip on the door was the only thing keeping her upright. 

Staceasa untangled herself from the older Chiss woman, and slowly made her way to the little girl in the doorway. She knelt in front of her and held out her hand, gently encouraging her to take it. The girl hesitated, hiding more of her face behind the door, but keeping one of her eyes directly on Staceasa.

“Hi,” Staceasa said, hoping the girl spoke Basic.

She nodded, but didn’t say anything. She did take one hand off the door, though, reaching for Staceasa’s outstretched hand hesitantly.

“My name is Staceasa,” she continued softly, “What’s yours?”

“Thandra,” the girl replied shyly, looking down at her feet.

“Thandra,” Staceasa repeated, “That’s a very pretty name.”

Thandra looked up and squeezed her hand, putting most of her weight on Staceasa. It was weird to have such a tiny hand in hers, clutching to her for support, but she wasn’t about to let her just fall over. 

Staceasa pointed behind her to the Chiss who was still draped over poor Torian, his eyes pleading for an escape, “Is that your mom?”

Thandra nodded and reached for Staceasa’s other hand, peeling herself from the safety of the door. 

“Up?” she asked quietly.

This was not what Stacesa had bargained for. She’d come to the girl in an attempt to escape the hugs of the weeping mother, and now the girl wanted to be held too. She looked at her and blinked, not moving while she figured out her options and felt her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Children were so foreign to her still with their complete trust and faith in strangers and their small view of the galaxy. Eventually, however, Thandra noticed her hesitation and went to back up out of her reach behind the door again. Staceasa saw the look of betrayal in her eyes - remarkably like the one Mako had given her - and immediately scooped Thandra up in her arms, resting her on her hip. Oh, this was weird. This was weird. There was a child on her hip, holding her arms around Staceasa’s neck, resting inches above her blaster, and it was weird. But it wasn’t panic-inducing, which was a plus. Thandra snuggled right into Staceasa’s neck, but her eyes were still open, scanning the surroundings vigilantly. 

She walked back to Torian and the Chiss woman, who by that time had composed herself enough to wipe the tears on her face and stood without draping her arms all over Torian. Thandra reached out for her mother, and Staceasa gladly passed her off.

“My name is Thastre. Do you, ah, want to come in? I am able to offer tea to you?” the mother asked, her tongue uncomfortable using Basic, wrapping around the words like she would have in Cheunh.

Staceasa looked to Torian, who nodded. So they followed her inside.

It looked remarkably unchanged since Staceasa had been there last: sparsely furnished with an old table and four chairs in the kitchen, the floor scuffed and warped in places, appliances vaguely covered in rust around the edges. All things considered, it had held up remarkably well, which only made it more painful for Staceasa to return to. She looked to the bedroom door as the Chiss woman shut it, reaching for Torian’s hand and swallowing. He intertwined his fingers in hers under the table and Thastre turned her back to them. Thandra sat at the table opposite Staceasa, swinging her feet and fidgeting with the wampa plush on the table. Torian took an immediate interest in the toy, watching her intently.

“You ever watch Wampy the Wampa as a kid?” he asked Staceasa, eyes still trained on Thandra.

Staceasa shook her head, “We didn’t really have anything to watch it on.”

Thastre came back to the table, balancing three mugs of Jeru tea in her hands.

“My sincere apologies for the, ah, spectacle, I made outside,” she said quietly, staring intently in her mug, “Nobody else on Nar Shaddaa helped us before Doctor Cordovich, and I was beginning to lose… hope.”

Staceasa nodded silently, untangling her hand from Torian’s and wrapping it around the warm mug.

“We came to Nar Shaddaa because Thandra is sick,” she continued slowly, thinking through each word, “No one on Csilla knew what caused it.”

Staceasa glanced at Torian, who was still enthralled with the wampa, but clearly had been listening to them because he was asking Thandra if she had any other toys and if they could play together. Her face lit up and she leaped down from the chair, dragging Torian with her into the other room.

Staceasa looked back down at the mug of tea, “My family moved here fifteen years ago for the same reason. We lived in this house for six years, actually, when my brother was sick.”

Thastre looked up at Staceasa with equal parts hope and fear in her deep eyes, “Doctor Cordovich healed your brother?”

“She worked in a tiny clinic back then,” Staceasa replied, shaking her head, “She didn’t have the resources to help him.”

Thastre’s hands started trembling, and Staceasa fumbled through some sort of explanation about how Stanellir and Thandra probably didn’t have the same illness, how Elsie was the best doctor around, how she was sure Thandra would be okay. Her anxiety levels were rising just thinking about Stanellir again, but Thastre put her hand on Staceasa’s and looked right through her.

“He was lucky to have you for a sister,” she said calmly, “His name was returned to the ice, and you carry his legacy.”

The Chiss and their damn ice. They were obsessed with the stuff. They came from ice, they lived in ice, they returned to the ice when they died. It was no comfort to Staceasa at all that Stanellir’s name might be carved somewhere - and upon further reflection, her family’s exile ensured that it  _ wouldn’t _ be carved anywhere, and any other family names would have been etched out, too, destroyed from records and the very culture of Csilla. If it weren’t for the fact that she was literally blue, Staceasa really would have no evidence at all that she was Chiss. And she certainly had no desire to be one. 

She still appreciated the sentiment from Thastre, though, offering her condolences even when her own child was suffering through a similar draining illness. She looked back to the girl, who was excitedly showing Torian all the toys she had, lining them up in neat rows and giving elaborate introductions in Basic, sprinkled with Cheunh when she couldn’t think of the right word. Her skin was pale and she kept leaning on Torian to keep herself upright, but she hadn’t lost the spark in her eyes like Stanellir had.

Thastre refilled her mug of tea and sat back at the table, following Staceasa’s gaze to her child. 

“I would give anything to take her illness on myself,” she said softly.

Staceasa remembered the nights when she thought the same thing, laying in bed, wanting nothing more than to trade places with her brother. So she nodded, taking another sip of the sweet tea, and she turned back to Thastre.

“Elsie is the best doctor on this moon,” she reassured earnestly, “probably in the whole galaxy. She’ll take care of Thandra.”

Thastre nodded and tucked a lock of deep blue hair behind her ear, “A mother still worries. We have been here for five years, and she has made improvements. But…”

Staceasa put her hand on Thastre’s gently, not bothering to finish her sentence for her. She looked weary and tired, but clearly wanted to be around another Chiss who actually understood everything she was going through, being so far from Csilla. So Staceasa did the only other thing she could think to do: she started talking in Cheunh, asking Thastre questions about where she was from on Csilla, how they found Elsie, if she knew about the libraries on Nar Shaddaa. 

Thastre’s voice immediately changed when she switched to Cheunh. It was rich and beautiful and smooth, practically singing when she spoke. As part of House Aranth, she was born and raised in a similar echelon of Csillan society that Staceasa was, prepared her whole life to become a xenobiologist, sent out as a diplomat to study the adaptations of other humanoid species and how Chiss could exploit them or adopt them. She fell in love with another Chiss on Hoth, who - unbenounced to her - had been exiled from Csilla shortly after they met. Eventually they had a child together and agreed to leave Csilla behind, but it was never a comfortable decision for Thastre. She’d thought about returning to Csilla any number of times with Thandra, but was always afraid the Ascendency had discovered her dalliance with an exile and would curse her family with the same fate. Staceasa was the first Chiss she’d talked to since she left Hoth, and she’d immediately thought Staceasa had come to take them back to Csilla for judgement. Staceasa just laughed and shook her head, explaining her own family’s exile.

The two Chiss women talked for hours about what they remembered of Csilla, and it wasn't until Torian emerged from the other room alone that they stopped and looked at what time it was.

“Oh, shit, Elsie’s gonna kill me,” Staceasa muttered, “we should probably go.”

Thastre nodded and stood, “Thank you, Staceasa. For the medicine, and the company. May the ice always be firm beneath your feet.”

Staceasa nodded, “You know how to reach me if you need me.”

She looked to Torian, who seemed exhausted after spending the afternoon with Thandra, and led him down the worn stairs and out to their speeder. They both climbed in silently, sitting close to each other. They laced their fingers together and leaned against each other, breathing in unison. Staceasa could feel the tears in her eyes again, a combination of emotional exhaustion and unrelenting grief, and she lifted her head up to the sky, watching the shuttles and taxis and speeders fly above them in haphazard formations. Nar Shaddaa was the closest place she’d ever had to a home. Even spending the afternoon reminiscing with Thastre about Csilla only solidified how foreign it had become to her. Thastre spoke of great ice-sculpted halls and intricate statues and beautiful homes, but all Staceasa remembered was playing pretend with Stanellir and the sadness in her parents when they had to leave. 

Torian shifted and nuzzled into her neck, squeezing her hand gently. Thank the goddamn ice for Torian.

She turned and kissed the top of his head, “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE shoutout to Defira for letting me steal more of her characters! Both Doctor Elspeth Cordovich and Caliah belong to her! And, of course, the wonderful Ysaine Pierce, who doesn't make an actual appearance, but gets mentioned more than once. And she was kind enough to share her thoughts on Chiss culture, and let me add to House Aranth's number! Thanks, Defira! You're the best!


	8. Voss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mildly NSFW at the end (you're welcome)

Steaceasa awoke with a start, gasping for breath as she shot up in bed. She breathed deeply and put her hands to her face, trying to rub the lingering nightmare out of her eyes. She’d grown accustomed to shoving off dreams of her family or old friends, but rarely were they so vivid and utterly terrifying. She curled up and put her forehead on her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs.

Torian grumbled beside her, pressing his face into her hip and draping his arm across her waist. Stars, she almost forgot he was there, but he was warm and snuggly, at least. Small comforts. Back on Nar Shaddaa, Elsie could only spare four beds at the hospital, and after he spent one restless night on the floor, she’d insisted he climb up with her. Since then, they just continued sleeping together. It was especially good on nights like this when she needed a physical reminder that she still had him.

“ _ Cyar’ika _ ?” he mumbled against her, squeezing her gently.

She lifted her head enough to look at him, and even in the dark she could see that his face was still pressed against her, his eyes shut. He was curled up beside her under a mountain of blankets in addition to the one they shared. 

Staceasa took her hand and put it on his softly, “I’m okay. Go back to sleep.”

“Can’t lie to me,” he replied with a yawn, clearly struggling to stay awake.

With a sigh, she unfurled and snuggled against him, clinging to him as the nightmare still clung to her behind her eyelids. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close, pressing a sleepy kiss in her hair.

“I’m here,  _ cyare _ ,” he reassured her, which only made her bury her face further into his shoulder. He fell asleep again nearly instantly, but she tossed and turned for another couple hours before she got sick of it and snuck out of bed. She tiptoed up to the cockpit barefooted and slid into the pilot’s seat, wiping her face with her hands before settling them on the controls. It was quiet and peaceful and free up there. After spending a month on Nar Shaddaa, she’d almost forgotten what quiet actually felt like. The hum of the engines, the soft clicking of the hyperdrive, and the puffing of the air control system were the only sounds to be heard. 

She looked again at the astronavigation charts; they were still about day out from Voss, the secluded planet that no one had ever heard of until the Empire and Republic decided they needed more allies in their endless stupid war. Mako had done as much research as she could on the place, but all she could come up with was that they were xenophobic as shit, and relied on some variation of the same space magic as the Sith and Jedi to tell the future. Still, she was curious; the planet had managed to stay out of sight for more than a millennium by this point, it must have some interesting secrets. And they couldn’t possibly be more racist than the Sith Empire, at any rate. Maybe she shouldn’t think that. She might jinx it.

A surprised grumble moved her out of her thoughts, and she turned around to see Mako, hair disheveled and still in her sleeping wear.

“Didn’t think you’d be up this early, boss,” she yawned.

Staceasa shrugged, “Wasn’t exactly by choice.”

Mako sat on the other side of console and started typing absently, “Nightmares, huh? Me, too. Keep having one where I wake up and look in a mirror and I’m half Bantha, half Sleen. And I’m wearing clothes for some reason, but can’t find my pants anywhere.”

The Chiss laughed a little, “I think I’d prefer that, honestly.”

“Yeah? Yours must be terrible.”

She paused for a moment and nodded, “Pretty much.”

They sat in silence for awhile, both of them typing away and watching the ship move through hyperspace. Staceasa still felt guilty and uncomfortable about her panic attack and the ensuing hug incident; Mako seemed her normal cheery self, but Staceasa still felt her stomach clench whenever she thought about it.

The Chiss swallowed and took a deep breath.

“Mako,” she said.

“Yeah, boss?”

She hadn’t thought about how to start this conversation. Mako’s question hung in the air for a few seconds while Staceasa’s brain tried to fire the synapses again. She’d played out this conversation so many times in her head, but never bothered to figure out how to  _ start _ it.

“I’m sorry,” she fumbled.

Mako swiveled in her chair and looked at her, “What for?”

“For… the hug thing…”

“Hug thing? Staceasa, you’ve never hugged me, what hug thing?”

The Chiss looked at her lap, “ _ That. _ ”

Mako paused for a second, “Oh.”

Oh, now it was awkward. It was quiet and it was awkward and neither of them knew what to do.

“I haven’t been close to  _ anyone _ in years,” she continued, “I’ve seen enough people die and felt myself die with them that I just… can't do it.”

Mako nodded, “I know.”

“You  _ know _ ?”

“Yeah,” she said, swiveling her chair to face Staceasa, “it's scary to watch your friends die. You either cling tighter to the ones you have left or you shut yourself out. It's alright that you picked the second one.”

Staceasa nodded, but couldn't make eye contact. Mako turned back to the console silently, typing away.

“Thanks, Mako.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed cheerily. 

Well, that went better and worse than she thought. Mako hadn’t disowned her as a friend, but she really didn't feel any relief from the conversation. She wished she could just go hug her or something, but she felt her heart start to race at the thought and didn’t. Mako had been one of the few constants in her life for the last two and a half years and still, Staceasa couldn’t bring herself to get close to her. And the closer she got to Torian, the more guilt she felt about the distance between her and Mako. She rubbed her hands over her face and shook her head; she had enough things to worry about between psychopathic space wizards, Republic politicians, and the bounty still on her head, she didn’t need this too.

\---

All things considered, Voss wasn’t really a bad place to be stuck for awhile. The atmosphere gave everything a vaguely yellow tint, which was not unpleasant. There was plenty of wildlife to hunt in their downtime, and most folks didn’t really notice that the meandering Chiss looked an awful lot like the bounty hunter who had an enormous Republic bounty on her head. And she  _ was _ meandering. Staying under the radar was something she’d always done, but everyone on Voss was so paranoid, any quick movement could catch the attention of someone who thought she was up to something. Even as they were preoccupied, there always seemed to be some threat of an enemy infiltrating camp or thwarting their secret plans. So she and Torian took their time, following General Thelonia Redrish from a distance. And very few people bothered them, which was as nice as it was surprising. They'd been on the run for nearly half a year, always hyper-vigilant of their surroundings, and there always seemed to be at least someone eyeing them. But for now, nobody even looked up at the sight of two Mandalorians.

As the two of them walked through one of the Imperial camps, a Voss Commando came sprinting at them; Staceasa reached instinctively for the blaster on her hip, but didn't dare to draw it - the last thing she needed was some Voss thinking she was being aggressive and blaming the Empire for it. She had a big enough target on her back already, thanks.

“You are the bounty hunter,” the Voss said, bypassing any sort of introduction, “The Mystics have had a vision of your arrival. They request your presence at the Shrine of Healing.”

Staceasa eyed him slowly, “You must think I'm someone else.”

He shook his head, his glowing yellow eyes strangely like her own, “The visions were clear. An Outsider would come. She would not be human and there would be fear lingering in her eyes. Fear not of Voss but of something long ago. You are the Outsider.”

“That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard,” Staceasa retorted, but her hand went for Torian instinctively before she pulled it back. 

“I am only the messenger,” the Voss replied as if that explained everything.

She blinked slowly, “Well, you can tell your Mystics that I'm not interested, thanks.”

The Voss’s face set into a frown, “You misunderstand. The Mystics are not denied. You must go to the Shrine.”

She looked to Torian, who shrugged. Load of help he was. 

“Fine,” she huffed, “I'll see your Mystics at the Shrine. I'm going there anyway.”

The Voss nodded and turned his back to return to his post, “Good. Find Sana-Rae. She will guide you.”

Staceasa grumbled in response. 

Torian looked to the setting sun and frowned, “Getting late.”

“Think we should set up camp for the night? Go to the Shrine in the morning?”

He nodded, “Probably safer that way.”

They propped up a tent outside the Imperial camp - far enough away that the guards wouldn’t approach them, but close enough that the creatures of the forest wouldn’t either. Staceasa pulled a couple field rations out of her pack and passed one to Torian, who stepped back from his fledgling fire and sat beside her on the ground. It wasn’t a glorious camp, but it would suffice for the night. They sat in a small clearing just big enough that they could look up and see the stars twinkling above them; Staceasa liked finding patterns in them, trying to discern which planets might belong to which stars or to find planets she knew. She’d have looked for home if she’d ever associated a particular planet with home. The Mantis was out of sight docked to the orbital station, at any rate.

Torian returned from disposing of the wrappings from their meals and curled up beside her, wrapping his arm around her and following her gaze to the night sky. Staceasa let her head drop to his shoulder, and she closed her eyes.

“Everything alright,  _ cyare _ ?” he asked, pressing a kiss to her head.

She nodded, “Fine.”

He rubbed her shoulder absently, “You figure out which one is Y’Toub yet?”

She chuckled, eyes still shut, “East seventy degrees, south twenty degrees. The dull orange-looking one.”

“Huh,” he said, “you can see the planets from here.”

“No light pollution,” Staceasa replied with a yawn, snuggling into his chest.

\---

When she woke again, she was inside the tent they’d put up the night before, Torian snoring softly beside her. The sunlight poured in from the open canopy, and she grumbled when she opened her eyes to it. Torian evidently heard her and rolled over to hold her.

Staceasa smiled, “I’m alright,  _ cyare _ , it’s just bright.”

He pulled her closer, “Does that mean I’m not allowed to cuddle?”

She shook her head and kissed him, “That’s absolutely what that means.”

Torian looked like he was about to be offended, but both of them sat up abruptly at the sound of something rustling outside far too close to them. Staceasa looked for her blasters, and Torian had already grabbed his polesaber and rushed outside to see what the noise was. She was halfway out of the tent when she heard him laughing. 

“ _Su cuy’gar,_ _burc’ya,_ ” she heard him greet.

He was crouching in front of what used to be the fire, his hand outreached towards a small mawvorr, who bounced playfully just out of his reach. Staceasa inspected the rest of the camp, and finding nothing else out of the ordinary, breathed a sigh of relief. This on-the-run business was really starting to take a toll on her paranoia.

The mawvorr kept running circles around the fire pit, growling whenever Torian reached out as he passed. When Torian picked up a loose stick on the ground, the mawvorr stopped immediately and trained its eyes on him. Torian waved his hand around, both of them laughing when the little creature’s head turned to follow it. 

“Alright, back into the woods you go,” Torian said before he threw the stick into the trees. The mawvorr went bounding after it and disappeared from sight.

Staceasa shook her head, “Well, that should be enough excitement for the day, yeah?”

Torian chuckled, “We can only hope so.”

It didn’t take long for them to get ready and break down their little camp, making their way to the Shrine of Healing. The roads - paths, really - were littered with debris from Voss and Gormak skirmishes and every once in awhile, they would pass a group of warriors just close enough to the road that Staceasa had to pull out her blaster to make them back off. 

Her stomach was starting to churn as they saw the behemoth of a building atop the hill. It was massive, built more like a fortress than a shrine. It was vaguely pyramidal, enormous sheets of rock reaching for the sky, the faces completely unadorned except for the entrance that glowed a vibrant green. Far too pragmatic for a spiritual place of worship, and far too large. It perched on top of a hill, the only permanent structure to see for kilometers. 

She was so lost in her thoughts and her anxiety that the rustling in the bush beside her made her jump. Torian pulled out his polesaber until a tiny mawvorr waddled out of the bush, a stick in its mouth, tail wagging so furiously its whole body was shaking. It waltzed right up to Torian and dropped the stick on the ground, looking from it to Torian and back to the ground again. 

“Is that-?”

The mawvorr nudged the stick towards Torian, who knelt down and took it. The creature was so excited he started running in circles around them, jumping and barking.

“Did he follow us from the camp?” Staceasa asked, stepping closer to Torian to get out of the path of the mawvorr.

He laughed, “Seems that way. Should we keep him?”

Staceasa frowned, “do you think they let pets inside the Shrine?”

“Probably not.”

With a sigh, Torian flung the stick down the pathway, watching as the mawvorr went to follow it, tripped, and then got up bounding after it again none the wiser.

Staceasa shook her head with a chuckle before turning back up the path to the Shrine. Torian followed her up and brushed his hand against hers. She would have given so many things to just skip the Shrine of Healing nonsense and use that time to be with Torian. She didn’t even know what they were going to do. It likely wasn’t torture - that didn’t seem to be their style. But this Sana-Rae person had had a vision of her. Why? What did they care about a bounty hunter who was loosely affiliated with the Sith Empire? She wasn’t extraordinary, certainly not in any Mystic sort of way. She hadn’t read anything about Voss rituals either because no one thought it was important enough to publish about it, or because they simply didn’t know. Voss typically didn’t take too kindly to Outsiders. So why single her out? She was an Outsider to every group she’d ever been a part of - the Chiss, the Empire, the Mandalorians. She had no affinity for the space magic they called the Force; she had no special skills other than aiming better drunk than most folks could sober; she traveled with a small and motley crew who weren’t spectacular in their own communities, either. Why her?

All eyes were trained on her when they entered the Shrine. Some of them clearly didn’t believe she belonged in their sacred space, but most of them were simply curious. Looking her up and down, inspecting her armor. It made her so uncomfortable she almost wish she brought Gault to make some sort of scene to take the attention off of her. Torian dropped into a protective stance beside her, his eyes scanning the room thoroughly. None of the Voss seemed to be making any movements toward her, and if Staceasa was reading their body language right, they were far more interested in her status as an Outsider than they were in anything else about her. 

A tall thin Voss approached them slowly, her hands clasped demurely in front of her. Her face, like the other female Voss, was primarily shades of red in swirling patterns with bright blue eyes.

“I am Sana-Rae,” she introduced, her voice lilting gently, “You are the Outsider. Follow me.”

Staceasa looked to Torian, whose jaw was set and his eyes were nervous. Sana-Rae continued through the building without seeing if they were following her. She took them through the enormous structure, walking slowly enough that they could look at the intricate designs etched into the floors and walls and still keep up. They followed her all the way to the back of the building, going up and down stairs, traversing vast empty halls, occasionally hearing the muffled wailing of the sick and injured but otherwise the building was completely silent. Even the sound of their boots on the stone floor didn’t reverberate off the massive walls. Staceasa tried to keep herself from shivering, tried to keep the memories of the Chiss Embassy on Nar Shaddaa at bay; she reached for Torian’s arm to ground herself, surprised to notice that he also looked like he was seeing unpleasant memories.

Sana-Rae led them around a sharp corner, into a room with a large pool filled with water. Which seemed odd to Staceasa - there hadn’t been water anywhere else in this building, right? A gentle waterfall was inset on one of the walls, trickling down the rock and into the pool, sending ripples through it. Three other Mystics sat around the back edge of the pool, heads bowed in meditation. None of them acknowledged the presence of the three newcomers, and Sana-Rae just gestured to Staceasa to enter and sit on the other side of the fountain. 

She moved forward hesitantly, suddenly acutely aware that she had no idea how to behave in this sort of situation. Should she take off her boots? Her armor? Should she sit on her knees or cross-legged? What kind of Voss etiquette was there for this sort of thing?

“You must wait outside,” Sana-Rae’s voice jerked her out of her thoughts, and she turned to see the Voss’ arm extended in front of Torian, barring his entrance.

Torian frowned and looked to Staceasa.

“He stays with me,” she replied, looking the Voss in the eyes, refusing to flinch even as she felt her heart racing.

Sana-Rae kept her arm extended, “This ritual is not to be viewed by others.”

“If you think I’m going to wait outside while you hurt her-”

“It is not a matter of hurt,” Sana-Rae explained gently, her voice completely unchanging despite Torian’s immediate defensive reaction, “it is a matter of privacy.”

Staceasa took a deep breath and spoke as calmly as she could muster, “If it’s only a matter of privacy, let him stay. He should learn whatever I learn.”

Sana-Rae thought for a long moment, and Staceasa exchanged a nervous glance with Torian. Finally, she let down her arm, “He stays. But he does not engage.”

Staceasa nodded, “Fair enough.”

The Voss nodded and joined the other three in meditation, clearly assuming Staceasa would follow. She turned only to feel Torian take her hand and squeeze it.

“I’ll be here if you need me, Ceasa,” he said in barely more than a whisper.

She squeezed his hand in reply, looking into his pale eyes and hoping for an escape in them. But one of the Voss behind her shifted impatiently, and she knew she had to suffer through whatever they were going to do. 

“Sit,” the Voss on the left spoke first, “gaze into the pool.”

She obeyed silently, peering into the silvery water and seeing her own reflection along with the Voss who sat opposite.

“Empty your mind,” the second Voss commanded, “breathe and release your anxieties.”

She snorted quietly, but took as deep and cleansing breaths as she could manage. She focused on the rippling of the water in front of her and the odd silvery hue. After a moment, she felt her body relaxing and her head stopped spinning. 

“Good,” the third Voss whispered, “imagine the place that makes you feel comfortable.”

The Mantis immediately came to mind, sitting on one of the couches with the crew around her. As she pictured it, the same image manifested in the water before her.

“What the-!?” she yelped and stumbled backwards.

Torian’s boots clacked on the floor, but Sana-Rae put out a hand and signalled him to stop, explaining, “The pool will reflect whatever you have in your mind. Whatever visions you have, we will see also. But we see no more than the images you project. Surface thoughts. Unless you allow us more.”

“And why should I allow you to see my thoughts?” she replied petulantly.

Sana-Rae breathed slowly in some sort of sigh, “Because you want to heal. You wish to free yourself from the ghosts that follow you. And we can help. But only if you allow us.”

Staceasa held her breath for a minute. They wanted…  _ to heal her _ ? 

“Your vision...” she started hesitantly.

Sana-Rae nodded, “You carry a planet’s worth of pain with you, Outsider. The vision shared your pain with me, though not its cause. The Shrine heals not only bodies, but minds, as well. This is why you are here.”

Staceasa swallowed, “Why didn’t you say so before?”

“Apologies,” she explained, “I am unaware of the social customs of Outsiders, and when motives must forthcome.”

The Chiss took a deep breath and pushed herself off her elbow, perching at the edge of the pool again. Her heart was still racing, but it wasn’t in fear anymore. Sana-Rae had felt her pain. She wanted to heal it. Like some sort of therapy. 

“Shall we start again?” the first Voss said, lifting his head for only a moment before bowing it reverently again.

Staceasa nodded, took a deep breath and looked into the pool, envisioning the Mantis again. Like before, it manifested before her, but she kept breathing. The Voss Mystics continued to speak in turns, their voices even and soft as they guided her meditations. They had her envision her crew, the Twi’leks, Elsie, and Izzy. They had her remember the halls of Csilla, the apartment on Nar Shaddaa, the outpost on Hoth. They brought her in a roundabout way through her life, moving not chronologically, but starting with the easy memories and working their way through the ones she’d tried hardest to forget. Each one was brought up in the pool before them, murky but clear enough that the Mystics knew what she was seeing in her mind. They talked her through them, asking her questions and forcing her to examine these events.

“The pale one with us,” the middle Voss said, “You love him. But you fear him.”

Staceasa shook her head vigorously, “I’m not afraid of Torian.”

“But of losing him,” Sana-Rae supplied.

She swallowed and nodded silently, Torian’s image appearing in the water; she could practically hear him holding his breath behind her. 

“Why?” another Voss asked, gently urging her, “He has never indicated he might leave, yes?”

Staceasa took another deep breath, letting the air of the room fill her lungs and ease some of the tension she felt. The other Voss did not rush her to answer, just like they had all afternoon. 

“I don’t think he would leave of his own volition,” she explained slowly, exhaling deeply, “but that doesn’t mean… it doesn’t mean he’ll be here forever.”

There was a tiny whine from the back of the room, but the Voss ignored Torian completely. Staceasa could feel her heart ache at the noise, knowing he probably wished she’d told him that particular fear. But there was nothing he could have done to assuage that fear, so it seemed useless to worry him with it.

“You’re afraid he will die,” Sana-Rae reiterated, sending a sharp emotional pain through her, and the water rustled into a murky blackness, “like the others you have loved.”

Immediately in the water appeared the scene of her family in their apartment on Nar Shaddaa, Stanellir joining the three of them at the kitchen table, all of them laughing. It wasn’t a memory she’d ever recalled when she thought of Stanellir, but here it was: mundane, ordinary, and happy. 

“You’re afraid of having a family torn from you again,” Sana-Rae continued, and the water rustled again, the images of Stanellir and then her parents disappearing, leaving her in the empty apartment before disappearing altogether.

Staceasa didn’t need to answer for the Voss to know they had reached the heart of the matter.

“Ah,” the male Voss replied knowingly, “you fear the impermanence of the lives you love the most.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Staceasa muttered.

“You fear the loss you felt at the loss of your brother and parents. You fear feeling it again,” the Voss on the other end said bluntly.

She knew this was supposed to help, that talking about and admitting her fears was supposed to be therapeutic and opening up about those fears should alleviate them, but it didn’t make their conversation any more comfortable. It was no great revelation to her that the stem of her trust issues and her anxieties came from the deaths of her family and the subsequent friends. She had known this for a decade if not more. But they kept talking. They kept pressing at the matter, asking her to investigate and put her feelings into words. They asked her to explore the depths of her pain. And worse, they asked her to  _ tell them _ about it. It took less than a minute for her to be in tears again, explaining the betrayal she’d felt and the overwhelming loneliness. Being alone on her terms seemed to be the only option for her that would keep her heart intact, even if it left her hollow. 

Sana-Rae nodded as she spoke, “You keep company now. Your crew, the Mandalorians. Something must have changed.”

Staceasa shrugged, “Those were accidental more than anything. Bounty hunting gave my life a purpose, so I took Braden up on his offer to join him in the Great Hunt. I was adopted into the Mandalorian ranks after I won, and the crew slowly joined me after that. I guess Mako didn’t have anywhere else to go, so even after the Great Hunt, she stayed.”

“And her relative permanence in your life these last years has not alleviated your fears?”

“She must have done something,” she replied with a half smile, “the crew has doubled in size since she’s been with me.”

“Including Torian.”

She nodded, “Including Torian.”

The male Voss spoke up again, “Mako is the member who has been with you the longest, and yet it is not her you trust the most? That is perplexing.”

“That makes two of us. I still can’t touch her without panicking.”

“And yet,” one of the other females said, “you feel none of these anxieties with Torian.”

“I wouldn’t say  _ none _ of them,” she corrected, “but yeah, more or less.”

“Mako is not the anomaly,” Sana-Rae thought aloud, “but Torian. There is something about him that puts you at ease that the others do not possess.”

Torian snorted from the back of the room, clearly still listening.

One of the Voss had been nearly silent the entire conversation, but she suddenly spoke up, “Perhaps it is the love he has for you.”

The other three Voss turned to her suddenly and opened their eyes at the same time - which might have been creepy if Staceasa hadn’t been sitting here with them for the last four hours and watched them do any number of things that seemed to be uniquely Voss - as if they’d all had a revelation.

“Love is the answer,” Sana-Rae exclaimed, her serene exterior shaking visibly before she turned back to Staceasa.

“Wasn’t love what got me into this mess in the first place?” she asked skeptically, although even she started feeling their revelation creeping into her thoughts.

The quiet Voss nodded, “Love will also be your savior. The only way you can truly heal is to love and be loved again. Torian is the first since your family to have loved you in spite of the wall you erect, and he is the first to convince you to tear it down. That is why you feel safe with him. And that is why you still do not feel safe giving your heart to Mako or the others on your ship or in your life.”

Staceasa turned to see how Torian had reacted to the whole thing, but he sat against the wall with his polesaber straddled across his knees and his head bent, shadowing his expression in the dim room.

“Torian has shown you what it means to love,” Sana-Rae explained further, “to be vulnerable and to hurt and to fall-”

“Thank you,” came a grunt from the back.

“-and to have someone beside you help you back up. How to trust someone wholly with your heart.”

Staceasa exhaled and smiled a little, “So now the trick is loving more than  _ only _ Torian. And trusting myself enough to continue loving even when those people do leave.”

All four Voss nodded and spoke in unison, “Exactly.”

“And that,” Sana-Rae continued, “is up to you. We cannot help you love.”

She nodded, “I think I can do that.”

The Voss all stood and Staceasa with them as they decided their work was done. 

“Thank you,” Staceasa said, “for all of this.”

Sana-Rae nodded, “It is our pleasure. We cannot ignore the visions. You will do great things, Outsider. This has been foreseen. Our part is small, but necessary.”

She bowed her head gratefully.

“One final item, Outsider,” the quiet Voss said, “Thelonia Redrish. Follow her troops to the Dark Heart. She will be with them.”

Staceasa narrowed her eyes slightly, “Thank you.”

“It is late,” the male Voss said, “you should stay here for the night.”

\---

She all but leaped into Torian’s arms when they were finally alone, holding him as tightly as she could.

“ _ Ni kartayl gar darasuum _ ,” she whispered as she kissed him.

He returned her kiss far more tenderly, splaying one of his hands against her lower back and cupping her cheek with the other. A new heat formed in her gut when he pulled her against him and she put a hand to his chest, breathing much harder than she should have been.

“ _ Cyare _ ,” he called softly, and she realized he was breathing as hard as she was.

She stepped back, pulling him upright so he wasn’t leaning so precariously over the bed, and she let her head rest on his shoulder, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he replied, running his hands up and down her back.

She felt the heat growing as he continued to run his hands over her, and she whined into him.

He paused abruptly, “Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head vigorously against him, digging her fingers further into his chestplate. She needed to be  _ closer _ . He was warm and he was gentle and she  _ loved _ him. More than that, she  _ trusted _ him. With every part of her. Including her heart.

His fingers dug a little bit into her back and she squeaked, much to his delight, his laughter reverberating through her chest and building up the ball of heat even more.

Torian took two fingers and lifted her chin so he could see her face and their eyes locked for a moment. Red and blue met and he smiled, sending another flush through her. How something so simple wound her up so tightly never ceased to confuse her. But after this afternoon with the Voss, she was far more willing to just accept the feeling.

She tugged at his armor and he laughed before he took his hands off her and unclasped the chestpiece and bracers on his arms. They fell to the floor unceremoniously as she wrapped herself around him and kissed him. 

He moved his hands to shed her armor, as well, but stopped, “Do you want me to?”

She shivered and nodded, releasing her grip on him just long enough that he could pull her chestpiece off and slide her cloak off her shoulders.

“Pants next?” he asked, waiting for her confirmation before he knelt down almost reverently to unbutton and strip down her armored leggings.

She let out a quiet moan when his hands lingered around her hips and he laughed again, pressing his head against her stomach before he slid between her legs and hoisted her on his shoulders. Staceasa squeaked again and squirmed as he picked her up with a grunt and carried her to the bed where he dropped her before shimmying out of his own pants and he laid beside her, propped up on an elbow. His other hand traced lazy circles on her side while he waited for her to untangle herself from the sheets. 

The bed was surprisingly comfortable, despite its deceptively trap-like sheets. But Staceasa didn’t even notice, too focused on the yearning in her gut and the man who laid beside her.

His eyes glimmered and he bit his lower lip, forcing himself to slow down but stars above, he was irresistible when he made that face.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, still tracing the circles on her hips.

She kissed him so hard he fell to his back so she could straddle him. 

“Does this answer your question?” she replied, bending down and kissing him fiercely and with a hunger she’d never felt before.

And in that moment - and the few to follow - Staceasa realized just how comfortable she felt. It was going to be difficult to love the others in her life that she’d walled off for so long, but she knew in this moment that she already loved and trusted Torian more than anyone. More than the Twi’leks, more than Ysaine, more than Clan Lok, more than her birth family. No longer were the alarms blaring in her head as he touched her; no longer did she feel the impulse to push him away; no longer did she envision him being stripped from her.

When she came, Torian followed. She’d expected to see stars or nothing at all, but she saw him beneath her, hair disheveled, arms glistening with sweat, lips trembling. And she loved every inch of him.

As soon as their breaths evened out, she settled on top of him, nestling her head where his neck and shoulders met, draping her arm over his chest.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, “ _ Ni kartayl gar darasuum _ , Staceasa.”

“ _ Ni kartayl gar darasuum _ , Torian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to update!! I've been busy attempting to become an adult!! But I haven't forgotten or given up on the fic!


	9. Corellia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXPLICIT CONTENTS!!! (Yay? Yay!) It's the second chunk, so feel free to skip if that makes you uncomfortable or if you just don't want to read it!  
> ALSO! HOVER TEXT!!!! Hover your mouse over any of the Mando'a and it'll pop up a translation!!!!! ISN'T THAT EXCITING!?!?! I'M EXCITED!!!

“Ceasa! Torian! You’re back!” Mako shouted gleefully as they boarded the Mantis, “I’ve got a surprise!”

Staceasa eyed her dubiously, raising an eyebrow, “A surprise?”

Before Mako could even get the next words out of her mouth, Blizz went screaming by, followed closely by a particular little mawvorr puppy. The stick still hung in its mouth.

Torian put a hand to his face and covered his laugh, “Can’t believe the little devil figured out where our ship was.”

Mako looked from the human to the Chiss, paying no mind to the details she’d missed, “Can we keep him?”

She looked to Torian, who said nothing but his eyes pleaded the same. It seemed he’d forged a bond with the mawvorr pup in the short time they’d spent together. 

Staceasa sighed, but the grin plastered to her face gave her away, “Alright, we can keep him. We needed a good mascot anyway.”

Blizz cheered from around the corner, and Gault groaned something about needing more alcohol. Mako jumped and sprinted into the engine room to join the Jawa and their new pet.

Staceasa just shook her head with a laugh, feeling Torian wrap his arm around her shoulders and press a kiss to the top of her head. 

She was never so glad to be home with the people she loved.

However, as if on cue deliberately to ruin her day, the holoterminal pinged with an incoming call. Staceasa hoofed it up the stairs and answered it quickly. The rigid, hooded face of Darth Tormen materialized before her and she had to keep from sighing out loud.

“Hunter,” he purred, “You’ve successfully delivered both Zale Barrows and Thelonia Redrish to me. I’m impressed.”

“Didn’t think you hired me because you wanted me to fail,” she retorted. She’d thought many times over the last months how much she regretted taking on the bounties for Tormen. Not that she’d had much choice in the matter, but still. There were ways she could have subverted him if she had had her head on straight enough to implement them. 

Darth Tormen laughed, the sound grating and almost hoarse, “I certainly did not. But I was beginning to think you had given up.”

She stared hard at him, torn between refusing to explain herself and proving a point. She chose the latter, “The hardest part about bounty hunting is knowing when to strike and when to lie in wait. The quick kill is not always as effective as the delayed capture. Maybe someday you’ll learn that.”

Tormen flared visibly at the insult, almost puffing out to keep from destroying something. Staceasa pressed her lips together to keep from grinning.

“We are not quite ready to attack the Chancellor and Jun Seros on Corellia,” he continued, “You will wait until you hear word from me, and I will give you further instructions then.”

“Fine by me.”

“We will speak again, Hunter.”

Staceasa disconnected the call and shook her head. Bloody Sith.

Gault, of course, appeared almost immediately, “So... now’s a good time for a vacation, right?”

“We should get Techno some things!” Mako’s muffled voice called from below them.

Gault just mouthed  _ Techno?  _ to Staceasa, who shrugged.

“Could use some time to get ready for Corellia,” Torian mused, emerging from their room in sweats, “Maybe get some hunting in.”

Staceasa nodded and paused for a minute before turning to the Devaronian, “Gault, tell the other two everyone gets a standard two weeks for personal business and R&R and whatever else you need. Feel free to come and go as you please, just stay out of trouble.”

His eyes lit up and he stood faster than she’d ever seen, giving her a mock salute, “On the double, captain.”

Torian looked at her, “What should we do with our free time?”

\---

“ _ Cyare _ ,” Torian called to her gently as she walked by him to the cargo hold, “I was hoping you might be able to give me some shooting lessons.”

Her mouth quirked up in a mischievous grin, turning to the cabinet and looking over her weapon choices, “Yeah? Shooting lessons?”

He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her ear, playing up the Mando’a drawl as he whispered, “No one else is here, it would be a waste if we didn’t use that time, don’t you think?”

Fuck, she fucking loved it when he talked like that, feeling the shiver and heat travel through her whole body. She squirmed around in his embrace so she could kiss him, “It really would be a waste.”

He pulled her in close as she kissed him, pressing his hips against hers. She reached behind her for a couple blasters and pressed one into his hand.

He pulled back in surprise at the metal in his hand, but Staceasa just grinned.

“Shall we start at the beginning?” she teased.

He chuckled, “This wasn’t exactly the sort of lesson I had in mind.”

It took every ounce of energy in her to not just melt on the spot, but she somehow managed it, reprimanding him gently, “ _ Gedet'ye, cyare, _ I know what you meant. Do you think I don’t know what turns you on by now?”

Torian’s cheeks flushed as she said it, letting the Mando’a roll off her tongue as if she’d been speaking it her whole life, and she used his momentary distraction to her advantage. She pulled him against her by his shirt collar with one hand, throwing out her other arm with the blaster towards the dummy in the cargo hold. He made a muffled moan as she kissed him, firing her weapon at the same time as their lips met. His eyes flickered to the dummy, and she was very aware of what he would see: a single shot right through the forehead. Torian’s response was to grab hold of her head by the nape of her neck, rubbing his thumb below her ear as he kissed her again, harder this time. She was still holding his shirt in her left hand, and she grasped it tighter when his teeth tugged on her lower lip.

She kissed him harder.

“Should we start the lesson?” she whispered breathlessly between kisses.

Torian dropped his blaster and pulled her in even closer around her lower back, “I don’t know, you’re very distracting.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed before wrapping herself around him and flipping him to the floor.

He landed with a thud and groaned as she put a knee to his chest, pressing enough that he would feel it, but not enough to suffocate him.

“I’m not sure that was fair,  _ cyare _ ,” he replied with a moan.

She placed her blaster on the floor and leaned down to kiss him, “Beating the shit out of you when you’re distracted isn’t fair?”

He grinned and used her forward motion against her, rolling them over so he was straddled on top of her. Staceasa landed on her back with a yelp and a laugh, pulling him closer to her so she could kiss him.

“Now who isn’t being fair?” she teased, grabbing hold of his shoulders and using her legs to flip him over her. She scrambled to her feet and plopped herself right on his chest, her feet on the floor by his head.

“Still you,” he wheezed with a grin, “If I admit that you won, could you maybe let me breathe again?”

She cocked her head, “I suppose that sounds reasonable.”

Gracefully, she rolled off him and held out a hand to help him up. He took it and let her haul him up, but used their momentum to push her up against the hull, with one hand on her side and the other cupping her cheek. Torian, for one, was totally wound up, kissing her wherever he could reach. Staceasa wasn’t much better.

She gasped when he tugged at her ear with his teeth, running her hands through his hair and clutching at it. They both let out quiet, breathless moans before they went back to kissing each other. Torian’s hands snuck under her shirt and rubbed up her back; she shivered and pressed one of her legs between his, reaching up and kissing his neck. She could feel his grin against her skin as he kissed her, slowly making his way down her neck to her shoulder to her chest, which only made her squirm and laugh and moan more.

She pressed her hips against his, feeling him against her touch, hot and hard. It was his turn to gasp as she did it, but he was too far for her hands to reach his pants, so she ran them through his hair again, feeling his kisses get a little fiercer every time she drew a breath.

“ _ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum _ ,” he murmured, punctuating every syllable with kisses down her shoulder and over her breast.

“ _ Fuck, Torian _ ,” she replied, arching her back against the wall as he continued to press kisses down her body, shifting her shirt out of the way as he went so he could kiss her skin.

He laughed, “That’s the idea,  _ cyare _ .”

His hands were following his mouth, and they were teasing her as much as the kisses were, tracing shapes on her back and hips, squeezing her breasts and ass, rubbing against her thighs as he peeled her pants down and let them drop to the floor.

Staceasa thought she might burst then and there, overwhelmed by his touch and his closeness and his  _ love _ . Stars, she loved him so fucking much.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders when she felt his tongue between her thighs, tipping her head back against the wall and breathing hard. Her knees felt like they might give out, but Torian had his hands on her hips, holding her where she was as he kissed her. He laughed again when she squeezed her thighs around his head, and when she felt his tongue again, she saw stars, coming with his name on her tongue.

He was so smug when she came, kissing her softly with a grin until she was breathing more or less normally again. But she wasn’t letting him get away that easily.

She pulled him back up by the shirt and kissed him hard, flipping them so she could get better leverage on him and pin him to the wall. He was already breathing heavily, his hands draped loosely over her shoulders as he let her have her way with him. Staceasa simultaneously pulled his hips against hers by the waist of his pants and pressed her thigh against him, hearing him make some sort of pleased and frustrated noise. She smiled as she planted kisses from his shoulder up to his ear while her hand snaked below his pants and rubbed his cock gently.

“Ceasa,” he moaned breathlessly.

“Yes,  _ cyare _ ?” she whispered as she kissed his ear.

He was already so wound up that it didn’t take much for him to come, and Staceasa grinned as she kissed him on the mouth again and moved her hand back to his hip, rubbing it gently with her thumb.

Torian’s legs gave out from under him and he slid down the wall; Staceasa started to laugh, but he dragged her down with him, and the two of them went crashing to the floor with a thud. They were a tangled mess of giggles and sweat and blue and pink, laughing while they kissed each other and held each other close.

“ _ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,  _ Torian,” Staceasa said quietly, “Thank you.”

He kissed her head and held her hands in his, “I love you, too, Staceasa.”

\---

Izak was just as unconvincing the third time. The SIS Agent in charge of Project 32 - and who happened to be the only one who knew the truth about Mako’s family - was eager to get off the line with them, impatient and unhappy that they’d interrupted. But Mako had held her ground, pushing him until he admitted he was going to pick up Coral and… do whatever it was SIS agents did to murderers, she guessed.

Mako was furiously typing on the datapad, cracking Izak’s encryption on the coordinates he and his crew were heading to. Staceasa didn’t want to hover while she worked, so she put a hand to her shoulder to indicate she was headed downstairs. Mako nodded without looking up.

Staceasa went to the cargo hold, where Torian was pacing, which was uncharacteristic for him.

“Trouble?” she asked.

He didn’t exactly nod, but he stopped where he was and pulled out his holocom, “Remember how Corridan said things were heating up? Listen.”

The small blue-ish image of Corridan Ordo popped out of the holocom, speaking very seriously, “I’ve got a mission. Thought you might want in on it. Clan Ordo has been hired to kill a Senator, who is hiding out under major Jedi protection. It’ll be a serious engagement. He’s gone to ground in a heavily fortified area. Worth a lot of credits, too-” and here the quintessential Corridan smirk appeared, “-if you’re interested, meet us at the Baliss Estate on Alderaan. Corridan out.”

Torian’s brows were furrowed, still looking at the holocom even after the message ended.

Staceasa put her hand to his shoulder, “Sounds like they’re in for a fight.”

He nodded, “They’re my brothers. I need to be there.”

“I’ve got them! Staceasa, setting coordinates for Nar Shaddaa!” Mako cried over the balcony.

Her face paled as she realized she was stuck between offering to help Torian and his brothers or Mako.

But Torian just shook his head as if he knew her dilemma, “Go with Mako. I got this one.”

She reached up and kissed his cheek, “When do you leave?”

He shrugged and kissed her back, “Now, probably. Before you jump.”

She whined a little as she wrapped her arms around him, “ _ K’oyacyi _ , Torian. Come back safe.”

“You, too.”

\---

Coral was hunched over one of the computing systems, furiously trying to rewire something. Mako had spent the entire journey to Nar Shaddaa pacing and fuming, and she wasn’t done yet.

“Hey,  _ sis _ , long time no see, huh?” she greeted bitterly.

Coral leaped back in surprise, turning around while she regained her composure, “Mako? What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Met some of our sisters,” she continued, ignoring the question, “It was real sweet. Heartwarming you might say.”

“About that… I should have warned you.”

Figures she wouldn’t even properly apologize. If this had been Staceasa’s fight, she couldn’t say for certain that Coral would have lived long enough to get another word out. But this was Mako’s fight. And Mako had a few words left she needed to say.

“I’m sure it just slipped your mind.”

“It’s a lot to take in… I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” she replied before raising the tone of her voice, “Project 32 is trying to frame me, Mako! The others were in on it! Help me slice this computer. If I can erase my records, I can just disappear. Nobody else will get hurt. Please!”

Staceasa blew out of her mouth impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest.

Mako rolled her eyes so fiercely Staceasa thought they might roll right out of her skull, “I’ve got two words for you, Coral: Bantha dung. You used me. You wanted Izak dead. You wanted the other girls dead. Quit pretending to be the victim.”

It was evident even to Coral that Mako wasn’t going to budge. And Staceasa was immensely proud of her for that, making a note to herself to tell her as much when this was all over.

“So I set you up, so what?” Coral spat, “You don’t matter. Neither did the others. None of you are even real people! I’m real. You think I wanted to be a part of a set? Would you want that? I’m not like the rest of you, I’m unique. You’re not even a person!”

“Say that again,” Staceasa threatened, drawing her blaster, “I dare you.”

But she didn’t have the time to say it again; Mako launched herself with a blood-curdling scream at Coral, tackling her to the ground and knocking the pistol out of her belt. She scrapped like a pro - another point of pride Staceasa would remind of her of later. The Chiss kept her gun out and levelled at Coral, but never took a shot. Mako’s immense frustration and anger had been bottled up in her tiny body for far too long, and it seemed to all be rushing out of her now. She punched and kicked and bit Coral with an unmatched fury, pinning her to the ground and wailing on her. When Mako took Staceasa’s hand and stood up again, Coral was bruised and beaten, wheezing on the ground.

“It doesn’t matter,” she uttered, “Nothing you do matters. Even if I die here, you won’t be real. You’re just a cheap copy, Mako.”

Mako ignored her and turned to Staceasa, “She yammers a lot for someone who’s just been totally beaten, doesn’t she?”

Staceasa smirked, “Let SIS picked her up. Don’t know about you, but I’ve had my fill of crazy.”

“Me, too,” she sighed, “Let’s just hope it doesn’t run in the family.”

At that moment the doors hissed open and who else but SIS Agent-man Izak walked through. He looked distraught at first, looking from Coral on the ground to Mako and Staceasa, and back to Coral.

“Mako? How did- no, that’s a stupid question,” he said, and Staceasa blinked slowly at him, “We’ll take Coral from here. I guess we should thank you. Are you alright?”

Her shoulders sagged just a touch and she avoided answering the question directly, “I don’t know what you guys are going to do with her, but whatever it is, I have a hunch she deserves it.”

Izak nodded and motioned for the men with him to take Coral into custody, leading her limping out of the room.

“You alright?” Staceasa said finally, turning to her friend.

Mako shrugged, and that was answer enough. Staceasa took a deep breath, stepped close to Mako, and put her arms around her in a tight hug. There were a couple tiny alarms in her head, but she easily brushed them aside. Three years she’d been with Mako. Three years’ worth of ups and downs. Now more than ever, Mako needed an actual hug. And stars be damned, Staceasa was going to give her one.

She squeaked quietly in surprise, but returned the hug gratefully, whispering, “Thanks, Ceasa.”

Staceasa held her tighter, “That’s what I’m here for.”

Mako chuckled, but rested her head on Staceasa’s shoulder.

\---

Staceasa walked through the ship, delighting in the quietness of it. Gault was out with Hylo, having rekindled their past love; Torian was still with Clan Ordo on Alderaan; and Blizz was… somewhere with Techno. Who really knew where he was at any given moment? Her feet pressed against the cool metal floor with every step, and as she ascended the stairs to the common area, she could hear furious typing coming from the bridge. Given that the only other crew member still on the ship was a cyborg with constant access to the HoloNet, something had to be wrong. 

She made her way to the bridge, making sure to make a little noise so Mako wasn’t surprised when she appeared, but the slicer was sitting at the console on the side of the room, her hands now to her face.

“Mako?”

She looked up and uncovered her face, eyes ringed in red. 

“I… I’m not a cheap copy, am I, Staceasa?” She asked quietly, her voice so pleading and sad that Staceasa immediately dropped to a knee and took Mako’s hands in hers.

“Absolutely not,” she replied, “You are your own person, Mako. Sweet, caring, brave, and incredibly smart. Doesn’t matter where you came from, nobody and nothing can change that. And I like you way more than Coral.”

Mako smiled a little and took one of her hands back to wipe a tear that dribbled onto her cheek, “You mean that?”

Staceasa grinned, “When have I ever said anything I didn’t mean?”

“I guess you’re right,” she said thoughtfully, looking off to the distance for a moment before she continued, “Coral wasn’t exactly the family I was hoping for.”

“I know. You still have us, though, alright? Me, Blizz, Torian, Gault. Even Techno. We’re all family.  _ Aliit ori'shya tal'din _ , Mako. Family is more than blood.”

Mako threw her arms around the Chiss’s neck, hugging her for the second time in as many days. Staceasa decided she could get used to this.

“Love you, Ceasa. You’re the best.”

She rubbed Mako’s back and squeezed, “Love you, too,  _ orikih’ad _ .”

Suddenly the docking clamp engaged, startling both of them out of the hug. Staceasa lurched to her feet, Mako right behind her. 

“So this is where you’ve been slumming it, huh,  _ vod’ika _ ?” The voice was unfamiliar, but loud and gregarious and cheerful.

The second voice was all too familiar, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Is that  _ Aliit Ordo _ I hear?” Staceasa called, descending the stairs three at a time and meeting the half dozen or so Mandalorians who accompanied them. Torian’s arm was slung around one of his comrades, leaning heavily on them. He had a black eye, and he wheezed a little when he breathed, but was alive and upright, at least.

The first speaker held out his hand, which Staceasa took.

“Corridan Ordo,” he introduced, shaking vigorously, “you must be Torian’s girl. Staceasa was it?”

She nodded and gestured to Mako, who had followed her and stood slightly behind her, “This is Mako.”

The Mandalorian winked at the slicer, causing her to blush furiously.

Staceasa stepped forward to take Torian from the brother he leaned on. He grunted as he had to take his own weight for three seconds as he transferred to leaning on Staceasa, and hobbled a few steps to face his brothers.

“ _ Vor entye _ for bring him back alive,” she said to Corridan, pressing a hand to Torian’s chest gently, “ _ Gar shuk meh kyrayc, vode _ , stay for a drink.” 

Corridan laughed, gesturing to her while speaking to Torian, “Ah,  _ vod’ika _ , you didn’t tell me she spoke  _ Mando’a _ ! Is that your doing, or is she just the perfect woman?”

Torian managed a smile, letting his head rest against hers, “Don’t see why it can’t be both.”

Staceasa felt herself blushing and reached up to kiss his cheek.

“Ha!” Corridan guffawed, “Well, thank you for the offer, but we’ll let you two lovebirds get back at it.  _ Vor’e _ for letting us borrow Torian for a few days, Staceasa. It was a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

“Same to you,  _ ner vod _ . Safe travels,” she replied with a nod.

He looked to Mako and took her hand gently, bringing it to his lips and kissing it gently, “And to you, dear Mako, I say not goodbye, but until we meet again.  _ Ret'urcye mhi, burcy'e _ .”

Mako smiled so wide and tried so hard to keep still, but she still bounced a little as he did it, all but squeaking. 

Corridan turned around and addressed the rest of Clan Ordo, “Alright,  _ vod’e _ , let’s get you all patched up!”

The others all hobbled and limped and helped each other back to their ship, but Corridan paused and half-turned, suddenly becoming reflective as he met Staceasa’s eyes, “Take care of each other. You two have more  _ mandokar _ than entire clans. The  _ Mando’ade _ need you among their ranks.”

“ _ Vor entye _ , Corridan,” Torian replied softly, “ _ Oya manda _ .”

Corridan nodded, “ _ Oya manda. _ ”

He winked to Mako one last time before leaving in earnest, taking the arm of one of the others and bearing their weight. Once the airlock hissed shut, Mako started jittering and jumping and babbling.

“Is he seeing anyone?” she asked, holding the hand he kissed reverently.

Torian snorted, “Not sure you want to date him, Mako.”

Staceasa adjusted his weight on her and slowly started easing all three of them to the medbay.

Make kept in front of Torian, “What!? Why not!?”

Torian shook his head and groaned.

“We can talk about it later,” Mako decided, turning and sprinting back up the stairs.

Staceasa led Torian into the medbay, holding as much of him as she could. Which was easier said than done, but eventually she gently eased him down onto one of the cots in the medbay. She reached behind him and unhooked his cracked chestplate, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he inhaled through his teeth.

“ _ Udesii, cyare _ ,” she soothed, “You’re alright.”

“Feels like a Boma sitting on me,” he murmured, grabbing her forearm and squeezing as she took the heavy metal off his chest.

She tossed the armor to the floor carelessly, the loud clank making both of them wince a little. After she took his belt off, she let him sit back.

“Gault can tell you what’s broken better than I can,” she commented absently as she continued to pull off Torian’s armor.

“Mhmm,” he hummed in reply, eyes already drifting shut.

Staceasa paused for a second before she reached down to kiss him, “ _ Ni kartayl gar darasuum _ .”

“Love you, too,” he mumbled sleepily, and it wasn’t more than fifteen seconds later she felt him relax as he fell asleep.

She spent the next couple hours running tests and applying kolto and wrapping him up in bandages. Gault may have been better at this than she was, but Staceasa had been injured enough times that she’d picked up a lot of things. When she was satisfied with her work, she plopped in the seat beside him and put her bare feet up on the bed. She put her hand gently on his forearm and looked him over. Poor kid was exhausted, sleeping soundly the whole time she poked and prodded and bandaged him.

Hours later he finally turned his head and opened his eyes slowly to look at her.

Staceasa took his hand and grinned, “You’re still alive.”

He smiled a little, “Seems that way. Weren’t all so lucky.”

She squeezed, “I’m sorry,  _ cyare _ .”

Torian moved his head back and closed his eyes, “Gave an account worth remembering. Can’t ask for much more. Didn’t care to find out first hand. Didn’t let them get close.”

“How’d you manage that?” she asked, immediately imagining her own upcoming meeting with a Jedi.

“Kept the fire on the Senator. Didn’t leave them any choice. Can’t count on a good distraction every time I come across a Jedi, though. Clearly wasn’t a good enough distraction anyway. Better find some  _ beskar _ if I’m making a habit of it.”

“Give the word and I’ll get on that,” she said, “Can’t have you come back in pieces next time you go out with Corridan, can I?”

He smiled and even though it was strained and pained, it still sent butterflies through her stomach, “Hardly think I came back whole this time.”

She laughed, “Nah, just a few cracked ribs, a badly sprained ankle, and the lovely black eye. Nothing actually broken.”

“That’s a relief, at least.”

Still holding his hand, she moved from the chair to the bed, placing herself towards the edge so he could snuggle against her. Immediately, he turned - not without a quiet whine - and pressed his face into her side, sighing contentedly. Staceasa moved her hand out of his to wrap it around him, using the other to brush his hair out of his face so she could reach down and kiss him again. She never got tired of kissing him.

\---

“Go, do your part to liberate Corellia. This is a private matter,” the Jedi ordered calmly, putting out his hand to stop his allies from attacking.

Staceasa pulled out her blasters but didn’t aim them, “I’d take all the help you can get, Jedi.”

Jun Seros was unamused, “Indulging your grudge is wasteful enough.”

“Hardly call it a grudge,” Torian chimed in from behind her.

But Seros ignored him and addressed the half dozen other Jedi, “You know what’s required of you. Go.”

They all bowed their heads in understanding, retracting their lightsabers and filing out of the room, leaving one Jedi Master with two very angry Mandalorians.

“You’re persistent,” he continued, stepping forward, “Stubborn. I suppose that’s why you excel at what you do, but the price is high. What won’t a Mandalorian put aside for pride?”

It was a question hardly worth answering. Seros clearly had no interest in Mandalorian culture, no interest in hearing her out, no interest in actually discussing it. He was trying to rile her up, get her angry. But she wouldn’t let him.

She stared at him with her cold crimson eyes, and answered him, “I’d meet death head on for a comrade.”

Torian visibly puffed up in pride beside her. Any other time and place and she’d do something about that. But not with a Jedi Master in front of her. Not with the monster who’d ruined the last year of her life within striking distance.

“But would you kneel?” he asked in response, just as coldly, “You chose to murder Kellian Jarro, just like you chose to kill everyone sent out to bring you to justice. You could have surrendered at any time. You chose to become a murderer and a terrorist. I only turned all that senseless destruction toward a righteous purpose.”

“Killing my family and slinging mud, real noble of you,” she spat, and her heart ached as she said it, remembering that awful night on Nar Shaddaa.

“They made their decision. Just like you made yours. If using you to expose the Sith’s true face has dirtied my hands, so be it. It’s time to answer for you crimes.”

He said it as if he did not have to answer for his own crimes. As if all the pain he’d brought her was inconsequential just because she was a bounty hunter. As if all her grief and guilt and despair counted for nothing because she was a Mandalorian, and therefore evil. As if because she occasionally took contracts from the Empire, that meant she was one of them. She  _ loathed  _ the Empire. Hated them almost as much as she hated Jun Seros. She refused to kill anyone who would give her the option. If anyone was the criminal here, it was the Jedi.

“I’m just getting started,” she replied, pulling up her blasters in a hurried fury, firing in quick succession as the Jedi struggled to put his lightsaber up to block them.

He was deceptively fast for an old man, getting his feet beneath him in a matter of seconds even as he was being pummelled by Staceasa’s blasters and Torian’s polesaber. But his so-called righteous purpose was, in the end, no match for a Mandalorian’s vengeance. After a few minutes of circling and evading, of firing and blocking, Staceasa got a shot in that took out Seros’ legs and he fell to the ground in a heap. Torian swung at his unarmored neck and kicked the Jedi’s lightsaber out of arm’s reach. 

“You’re wrong about Mandalorians,” she growled, “and you’re wrong about me.”

Seros groaned loudly, rocking back and forth on the floor while the barrel of her blaster followed his movement, pointed directly between his eyes. Her eyes locked with his for a moment, and she took the shot, watching as his body went limp. 

The adrenaline washed out of her, and she suddenly felt like her armor was too heavy, her blasters too big, her body cold and aching. Torian stood silently behind her, waiting for her reaction before he did anything. And when she unceremoniously dropped the blasters from her hands and turned around, he was there in front of her, his arms wrapping around her and his mouth pressing a kiss to her forehead. Staceasa held him tightly, pressing her face against his shoulder as she cried.

“ _ Udesii _ ,” he soothed gently, “ _ Demagolka kyrayc _ .”

“ _ Mhi parji _ ,” she breathed.

Torian nodded against her head in affirmation.

It was done, then. Truly well and done. Jun Seros was dead, the Champions avenged. 

And she felt empty.

No jubilation at righting an injustice. No satisfaction from bringing an evil-doer to his knees. No joy in doing a deed for her brethren. All she felt was empty and alone. She’d avenged her chosen family, yes, but that didn’t bring them back from the dead. They were still gone, and killing the Jedi Master did nothing to change that. 

She felt Torian’s soft breaths against her ears as he breathed Mando’a encouragements to her. 

But of course, she wasn’t alone. She still had the Mandalorians, Clan Lok, her crew, Torian. Torian, who’d felt the loss of family like she had. Torian, who’d shown her that she was safe to tear down her walls for him. Torian, who’d always stood by her side but never spoken over her.

She squeezed him tighter, wishing there wasn’t so much armor between them.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured.

She nuzzled into his neck and exhaled, feeling the shiver down his back.

“Do we have to go back to Tormen?” she asked, dreading having to look at the Pureblood’s tendril-ridden face again.

Torian snorted quietly, “Unfortunately.”

\---

“You’re a good man, Chancellor. The Republic will be worse off without you,” Staceasa said quietly, holding her hands in front of her and not quite meeting the eyes of the older human on the other side of the holo. Supreme Chancellor Janarus cracked a sad smile, not at all looking like the inflammatory accuser he had been when he gave the speech that condemned her more than a year ago. Even between the time she met him aboard his ship and when she’d decided to let him live and now, he looked like he had aged a decade or more.

“I’m glad you weren’t the monster Jun made you out to be,” he replied with a little bow, “You’ll be exonerated as I promised. Even if my replacement questions the justification, overturning it would be more trouble than it's worth. I hope you’ll continue to use such good judgement in the future.”

All she could think of was how  _ tired _ she was. She’d been constantly on guard for so long, constantly paranoid an enemy would round the corner, constantly worried about the dangers her crew were in just by being with her. And after avenging the Champions by killing Jun Seros and now being exonerated by the Supreme Chancellor himself, a tremendous weight came off her shoulders. Her anxieties washed through her and she was left with a sense of calm and absolute exhaustion. But Janarus deserved to have her full attention for now. He’d risked what was left of his career and his  _ life _ to do right by her, to clear her name. She wasn’t sure she liked him, but his genuine disgust at Jun Seros’ personal vendetta against her and his actions to reverse the damage the Jedi had done had significantly softened her attitude towards him. 

“I’m a Mandalorian, Chancellor,” she replied with a hint of a smirk, “We may not follow your rules, but we’ve got our priorities straight. You may not know how to handle a blaster, but you’re prepared to die for what you believe in. That’s good enough for me. Live in honor, Chancellor. Wherever you end up.”

He nodded and disconnected. 

“Where to now, boss?” Mako called from the cockpit.

Staceasa took a deep breath, “For now, let’s go to Nar Shaddaa. Lay low while this whole thing gets straightened out. Find a few bounties to work on.”

“On it.”

She shed her outer layer of armor and left it on the couch as she made for her room, finding Torian sitting on the bed, swinging his foot off its edge and reading a datapad. Staceasa slid in beside him and curled up against him. He put the datapad down on the table beside them, wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her in closer.

“Tired,  _ cyare _ ?” he asked, running his other hand through her hair.

She nodded, practically melting against him as he touched her. They laid together silently, occasionally pressing soft kisses to each other and squeezing gently.

“ _ Cyar’ika _ ?” Torian said, sounding a little nervous.

“Mm?”

“ _ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum _ .”

She opened her eyes and sat up beside him, reaching over to kiss him, “ _ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum _ .” 

He rolled off the bed almost gracefully, landing on the floor on one knee. Staceasa cocked her head in confusion for a moment until he spoke again.

“Will you marry me?”

She blinked, “Wh-what?”

His voice was hoarse the second time, “Will you marry me?”

She leaped off the bed and threw her arms around him, pulling his head to hers and kissing him.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” she breathed, hardly able to keep from crying with joy, “There’s nothing else I could possibly want.”

He wrapped his arms around her and exhaled in relief, kissing her back long and slow.

Staceasa pulled back suddenly, “I don’t even know how Mandalorian weddings work.”

He smiled, “Not much to it. We can do it now, if you want.”

She eased off his lap and sat opposite him on the floor.

Torian held out his hands and took hers gently, “ _ Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde _ .”

“ _ Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde _ ,” she repeated, slowly so she could let its meaning soak in.  _ We are one when together, we are one when parted. We will share all. We will raise warriors. _ There was nothing in the vow that she didn’t want. 

Torian smiled at her, and she went to hug him again, resting comfortably in his arms. They sat in silence for a long time, breathing in unison and holding each other close.

When she thought about it, the quiet of the ship and the gentleness of the moment they shared wasn’t something she’d ever pictured having before. To love and be loved. To have a family again. Sometimes a family was two Mandalorians, a tiny cyborg, a hyperactive Jawa, and a swindling Devaronian, and it was good. They weren’t the Chiss parents and brother she’d had all those years ago, and they didn’t replace them, but she didn’t want them to. For the first time in her life, she was at peace with her past and her present. She was Chiss, bounty hunter, Mandalorian, sister, daughter, and now,  _ riduur _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *lays on the floor* Well, I sort of crawled my way to the finish with this one. Sorry my last two chapters came over the course of 3 months... But! Now it's done! And I don't have to feel guilty about working on other projects! Woohoo!! Thank you all for your wonderfully kind comments. I'm so glad I can share the love I have for my bounty hunter and Torian and that you all love them too. =') <3333


End file.
